


Cloud 4

by GusGustaffson



Category: Grand Theft Auto IV, Grand Theft Auto Series (Video Games), Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Use, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Roommates, Slow Burn, Watch Your Profanity, because I know the 90s okay, it's the 90s again, like...alot, omg they were roommates, they fight, this stupid ship wont leave me alone, twenty somethings always have drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-05-19 21:37:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 48,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14881662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GusGustaffson/pseuds/GusGustaffson
Summary: 1991, it's Michaels last year at the Los Santos community college and life isn't going well.  His grades slip, his football team is losing, his parents disown him and now he gets stuck with the crazy exchange student from Canada. But at that point it can't get worse, right?





	1. A great fucking day

**Author's Note:**

> To explain the title:  
> It's based on a german song called Wolke 4 which is about a man and his partner and how he'd rather be on cloud four with them than being on cloud seven(in german its not cloud nine but cloud seven) where he could fall and end up on the bottom alone again.  
> Here's the linkt ot the song:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9HL-2IhZKg

**Cloud 4**

 

 **Chapter 1: A great fucking day**

 

“Oh, fuck, Michael, you’re such a stud…”  
He smirked, winking at her. Not that she noticed. She was occupied riding his dick, eyes closed, her pretty lips parted as she bounced up and down. “I’m so close, Mike”, she sighed, her pace getting faster.  
“Me too-“, fuck he forgot her name, “…Babe…”  
…  
……  
…  
Much to Michaels dismay she was still lying in his bed after he came out of the shower. He bent down and picked up her brah, throwing it at her. “C’mon get dressed, you can’t stay here.”  
“Why not?” she pouted, an angry little wrinkle forming in between her eyebrows. Michael rolled his eyes and put on a pair of boxer shorts. “Because”, he began, “My parents are coming home soon and if they see you my Dads gonna bust my balls. Now get the fuck out of here.”  
There came his alarm clock flying. He dodged it before it could hit his head, the ugly sound of it connecting with the wall and bursting into pieces ringing in his ears.  
“You fucking jerk!”  
Apart from the screaming and the broken clock it was a rather peaceful departure. She got dressed, spat some uncreative curses at him and then stormed out of the room. He had worse. After she was gone he picked up what was left of the alarm and threw it in the trash.  
An hour later he was sitting in the living room, a bowl of popcorn in his lap and Hitchcock’s Vertigo playing on the TV. His attention was interrupted when he heard the sound of rustling keys, signalling the return of his parents. Heavy steps followed by the click-clack of high heels. The voice of his mother echoed through the big house. “Michael?”  
“Living room”, he answered.  
His mother stepped in, a brown paper bag in her hand. “We got you some leftovers from the restaurant. You can heat it up if you’re hungry.”  
Michael pushed the pause button on the remote, a small smile forming on his lips. “Thanks Mom, I’ll eat later.”  
She returned the smile and stepped into the kitchen. Then his father came in and sat down in his black leather chair. He didn’t bother to greet his son, all he did was glance at him for a moment before leaning over, taking the remote and changing the channel to WeazelNews.  
“Hey, I was watching that”, Michael protested.  
“And now you don’t. If you want to sit on your ass all day and watch movies, be my guest and go back to _community college_ ”, his father retorted, not even bothering to look at Michael.  
“I told you semester starts next Monday. I thought you guys would like having me back here over the holidays.”  
His father nodded. “Yes… Me and your mother wanted to talk to you about that.”  
Michael sat up from his slumped position. “About what…?”, he slowly asked. The click-clack of high heels approached behind him again. He felt the weight of his mother’s cold hand on his left shoulder. He turned and looked at her. “What is going on…?”  
“Michael, Honey. We had a dinner with a real estate agent. He’s going to look at some apartments for you.”  
Michael felt a pang of relief. But he was still confused. “Wait a minute… Didn’t you guys say you won’t pay for an apartment…? Why did you change your mind?”  
“Because, frankly Michael, I can’t watch you throw your life away any longer”, his father announced, a stone-cold expression on his face as he looked at his son for the first time this evening.  
An unsure smile made its way on Michaels face hiding the anger slowly boiling up inside him. “How is going to college throw my life away, exactly?”, he asked, a trace of mockery in his voice. His mother’s fingers gripped his shoulder a little harder. A low whisper barely reaching his ears. “Michael. Don’t.”  
He ignored his mothers warning. Instead he shoved her hand away and stood up.  
“Tell me, why am I the failure in this family?”  
Now his father was standing as well. He was a menacing man, taller than Michael and just as bulky. And he was in a surprising good shape for a man in his 50s. They glared at each other, his father invading his personal space and poking his broad chest with his index finger. “You know damn well why, you lazy piece of shit”, his father spat. “You could have gone to Yale. Mind you, surely not with that brick head of yours, but I could have gotten you in. It would have cost a lot of money and I… We. We would have spent it gladly. To ensure your fucking future. Instead you chose to slack in some community college. And even there, your grades have been shit and your team has lost 5 times in a row.”  
“Oh, I am so sorry for not taking advantage of you or your money, Dad. Sorry that I want to make it on my own”, Michael quipped back.  
“Get the fuck off your high horse, you hypocrite! You didn’t mind the advantage of my money when I got you that car. Or that motorcycle. Or when I paid for that abortion because you couldn’t control your sorry, little dick.”  
“Jesus Christ, Roger…”, his mother muttered.  
That left Michael speechless and he could feel how his confidence and anger were crumbling. But his father continued on. “You are a spoiled brat who thinks he gets to pick and choose. But it ends now. We’ll buy you that apartment and pay for the rest of your education. And that will be the last you will ever see of our money. So, I suggest you get yourself a job because we all know neither your academic nor your football career will go anywhere.”  
The room turned silent. Michael and his father stared at each other with gritted teeth. “Fuck. You.”, Michael said before turning around and storming out of the front door. He grabbed his jacket on the way out and went into the garage, fumbling with his keys. Before he even had processed what just had happened he was on the open road riding his bike, the roaring sound of the motor booming in his ears.  
Fuck them. Why was he even mad…? He finally got his own place and wouldn’t have to pay a dime for it. That was, what he always wanted wasn’t it? Wasn’t it…?  
He wasn’t in the headspace to deal with all of this right now, he didn’t even want to think about going back there and gathering all his stuff to take back to college. Later.  
Shaking his head, he kept on driving. Just driving. Clearing his mind. Maybe looking for a motel he could spend the night at. Or find a girl…  
The sun was about to set and he had been driving for almost three hours. He was in the middle of Los Santos now waiting in front of a red traffic light. He absently watched the light, waiting for its colour to change to green when all of a sudden, he could hear shots being fired. And then he felt the weight of someone on his backseat, a strong arm slinging around his waist and a rough voice screaming: “FUCKING DRIVE!”  
And he did. Almost crashing into a car in the process because the light on his side was still red. The man on the backseat kept on screaming directions in his ears. “GO STRAIGHT THEN TAKE THE NEXT LEFT!”  
He didn’t dare to catch a glance at his captor or even try to fight back, he was pretty sure the guy had a gun. They were driving further out of town, more and more trees and patches of green passing them on their way. It was dark when the guy placed something cold and heavy on Michaels shoulder. There was the fucking gun. The guy wasn’t shouting anymore, he just talked loudly enough so Michael could hear it. “See that small road over there that goes up to the woods? I want you do drive up there. No funny business, alright sugar tits?”  
Michael nodded, his voice breaking a little as he answered. “Yeah, alright.” He took the right, following the small road. It was barely lit and the asphalt was bumpy, causing the guy to get an even tighter grip on Michael. Michael flicked on his headlight as soon as they reached the woods. “Further?”, he asked.  
“Yeah, further! Don’t worry, we’re almost there. There is a dirt road to the left, take it and follow it until we reach a cabin.”  
“Okay.”  
He did as he was instructed, fear rising in his guts as they went deeper into the woods. This guy could easily murder him as soon as he got off of that bike. Michael already saw his own face on the news, bloody and cowered in mud. What a fine fucking day.  
They reached the cabin and Michael came to a halt in front of it. His whole body was shaking as he turned off his engine. He didn’t dare get off. He just kept on staring at his hands resting on the handlebars.  
The guy finally dismounted, patting Michael on the back. “Thanks for the lift, you can get up now. And take off your helmet, I wanna see my saviour.”  
Michael hesitated.  
“C’mon don’t be a pussy, I’m not going to hurt you.”  
Taking a deep breath Michael closed his eyes. Then he slowly got up and took off his helmet.  
“There we go, honey!”  
He had expected his kidnapper to be an older guy, maybe a skin head. Just like the criminals on TV usually looked. But a boy stood there, maybe his age even. When he had hold onto him, Michael had been sure he was fucking jacked, considering how strong he felt. But he actually looked rather lanky. A skinny, white boy with long limbs and a mischievous smile on his face.  
Flabbergasted Michael stared open-mouthed at the guy. He got kidnapped by _that kid_? That was the kind of kid he used to beat up in high school. Well, this kid still had a gun sticking out of his washed-out jeans.  
The guy laughed, his voice actually softer than Michael first had thought. “Look at that, you are actually kind of cute. A bit fat, though.”  
Michaels ears turned red. How fucking dare him. “What the fuck, man! You can’t just fucking get on bikes and wave your fucking gun around, you maniac.”  
The other was still smiling from ear to ear. “Wow, he’s got a mouth on him! Sorry bro, the situation in that liquor store kind of escalated and I had to get out of there quickly.”  
It was now, that Michael noticed the huge backpack the kid was carrying. He pointed to the backpack. “Did you rob that store…?”  
The kids eyes lit up. “Sure did! Got the good stuff too. But couldn’t get the cash in the register, turns out, the owner had a fucking shot gun. Can you believe that? This country is insane!”  
“It’s not the country, it’s you”, Michael thought. He wasn’t as scared anymore but he still was wary of the gun and the obvious mental health problems of that dude. “So… What happens now?”  
The kid cocked his head, seemingly thinking. Then he put the backpack down, opened it and pulled out an expensive looking bottle of whiskey. He threw it at Michael who barely managed to catch it. The price tag was still on it. 800 dollars. Holy shit.  
“Let’s just forget what happened, huh? I’ve never seen your face and you’ve never seen mine”, the kid mused calmly, but the actual intention was clearly heard in his voice. _Don’t tell or I will have to end you._  
With a hint of uncertainty Michael looked at the bottle and then back at the kid. Then he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sounds good to me.”  
The kid grinned. “So, unless you are planning on sucking my dick tonight, I suggest you leave, sugar tits.”  
Appalled, Michael took a step back. “You sick, fucking weirdo”, he said before putting his helmet back on, shoving the bottle of whiskey in the saddlebag of his motorcycle. “Nice meeting you too, darling…”  
That was the last he heard of the kid before driving off. His heart was still beating frantically as he made his way back to the main road. What a fucking night.  
…  
…….  
…  
He had managed to sell the bottle of whiskey on the street, not for the original price but he got 500 bucks out of it. He used the cash to pay for his stay at a cheap motel he lived in for the last few days. The start of the semester got closer and with it the reality of life. Monday was move-in-day at the Los Santos community college and it was already Saturday.  
Rooms already had beds, cupboards and the usual necessities someone needed to live but Michael still had to get some stuff he needed from his parents’ house. He wasn’t in the mood to look at them, let alone talk to them. So, he used what was left of his whiskey money on a moving firm who would get his stuff for him. He gave them a list of all the things he needed and the keys to the house.  
Sunday, he spent in his motel bed with a pretty, black girl he had picked up at a bar the night before. It was as much of a one-time thing for her as it was for him, which was nice for a change, considering the stress he had with other girls who always read to much into sex.  
He had kissed her goodbye around 10pm before going to bed and falling asleep while watching a rented movie on the small tv in his room.

Monday. With a coffee in hand Michael walked up to the reception, a heavy lady was sitting behind the counter typing something into the computer. When she noticed Michael, she looked up from her work. “Ah, Mr. Townley. How were your holidays?”  
“Good”, Michael answered, nonchalantly smiling at the older woman. “Same room as last year, I guess?”  
The lady nodded, she got up, opened a drawer and pulled out the keys for his room. She handed him the keys. “But there has been a slight change to your room.”  
Michael furrowed his brows. “Yeah?”  
“You got a roommate.”  
“What?! Why? I’ve been alone last year…”, he sighed.  
“Rooms are spare and we got an exchange student who wants to finish his major over here.”  
“An exchange student? From where?”  
“Canada”, she said, unsuccessfully trying to hold down a giggle.  
“Jesus. Is he already here?”, Michael asked.  
“I think so, he arrived a few days earlier because of the long way.”  
“Guess I’ll have to say hello”, he mused.  
She shot him a sympathetic look before getting back to her typing. Michael walked out into the direction of the dormitory, nervously rustling with his keys.  
He had gotten a nice big room for himself when he started college. Probably because he was the quarterback of the football team back in high school. They had won each season with him as quarterback back in the day. The coach had called him a rising star and someone to watch out for. But college football was much harder. Harder than Michael had expected. Maybe they put the exchange student on purpose in his room. Because his team lost last year and a few people say it was Michaels fault. Which it wasn’t. Obviously.  
26 C. His room. The door was already open so Michael peeked inside. His roommate was lying on a bed they had probably put in over the holidays. He seemed to sleep, a porn magazine covering his face, his hands were neatly folded on his flat stomach. Michael stepped in and looked around. The moving people had set up his stuff already, so at least that was taken care of. He glanced over at his roommate. “Hey? You awake?”  
The guy grunted. He pulled the magazine off his face enough so he could see Michael. His eyes widened. “Holy fucking shit, sugar tits, is that you?”  
Michael looked back at the other in horror. No way. No fucking way. The kid put the magazine aside and sat up, grinning up at Michael like a lunatic.  
“This can’t be happening…”, Michael groaned. It was the kidnapper. The fucking kid that robbed the liquor store. The kidnapper now turned roommate stood up and patted Michael on the shoulder a little too hard.  
“How small the world can be, eh sugar tits? My names Trevor by the way.”  
Michael just stared at him.  
This was all a bad dream.  
It had to be.  
Right…?  
…  
…  
…


	2. Ground rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a slightly shorter chapter, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! I'll try to get into a weekly upload schedule, so stay tuned.
> 
> Also I want to thank everyone who commented, left kudos, bookmarked, etc. it's nice to see some interest in my story!

**Chapter 2: Ground rules**

 

His newly bought alarm clock rang.   
Michael groaned, blindly reaching for the device until he found the shut off button. He tossed and turned in his bed. That’s why he always set the alarm half an hour before he actually had to get up. The bliss of waking.   
It was seven when he finally got up, stretching as he did so. He looked over to his new roommate who still was asleep, sprawled out half naked on his bed with his long limbs hanging off of it. Michael sighed and slowly got dressed. After that he opened the blinds of the window to let the first rays of sunshine in.  
Trevor didn’t seem to be bothered he just kept on snoring. _Well, good for him._ Michael didn’t care if he would sleep in on his first day. 

He walked to the cafeteria to get breakfast. A buffet with breakfast cereals was propped up on a table along with milk, bread, butter and other stuff. Michael grabbed a bowl and generously filled it with some Captain Crunch.   
When he sat down to eat he soon got joined by a few of his teammates. One of them was Devin Weston, one of the running backs of the team. A rich, white kid with a big mouth. Michael didn’t like him.  
“Hey there, Townley. Back for some action?”, Devin asked.   
Michael nodded, his mouth full.   
Devin examined Michael silently before pointing at the bowl in Michaels hands. “You sure you wanna shovel all that sugar into you, slick?”  
Michael glanced at Devin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“Nothing! I’m just concerned about our captain’s well-being. We wanna do good this season, don’t we?”  
“We _will_ do good.”  
“If you say so, buddy…”, Devin mused, before showing what looked like some designer salad in his mouth. _Jerk…_  
Michael finished his cereal before getting up. “See you guys at practice.”

Trevor was still fast asleep when Michael came back to get his things. He grabbed his stuff and was about to leave but he stopped at the door way. He had considered to just let the other sleep through his first day, but his conscience kicked in. Sighing he walked up to Trevor’s bed and shook its frame with his foot. “Hey, wake up.”  
Trevor groaned and flipped him off. Michaels eyebrow twitched slightly. “C’mon, you gonna sleep through all of your lectures on the first day?”  
“You damn sure I will”, Trevor mumbled into his pillow. “Now fuck off.”   
“Well, fuck you then”, Michael snapped back before stomping out of the dorm. So much for his good deed of the day.  
…  
……  
…  
“Alright ladies, I want to be honest with you. Last season was terrible. We didn’t just lose. We got obliterated. But this year we are going to show them! Now get warmed up! Three rounds around the field, now!”  
“Yes, coach”, the whole team yelled in unison. They started to jog around the field, Michael quickly gaining speed and making the front. Sweat was running down his neck as the morning sun shone down upon them. This year, he said to himself, this year he would lead his team to victory.   
After the first round he got a little slower, so did the rest of the team. The holidays had taken their toll on everybody’s shape. But then there was Devin. All of a sudden, he gained on Michael, a big mocking grin on his stupid face as he passed him. Michael gritted his teeth. That son of a bitch.   
After warm-ups were done, they began to do their usual exercises, starting with some easy blocking drills. Through the exercise, they frequently changed partners so everyone had a chance to practice on guys with different heights, weights and strength-levels. Fifteen minutes into it Michael faced Devin who still had a cocky look on his face. He was the first to block. Michael could see the challenging glimmer in his eyes as he got in position. “C’mon slick, give me everything you have!”   
“Shut up, Devin”, Michael said calmly. Not that he was calm. He was ready to put that weasel back into his place.  
The coach blew into his whistle and Michael tackled Devin with as much force as he could. But Devin was strong. Stronger than Michael had remembered. Before he even realized what happened Devin broke free from his block and Michael landed on the grass. He managed to get up immediately after, but his pride was already hurt. And that piece of shit Devin still had a smile on his face. “You have seen better days, huh Townley?”  
Michael breathed in hard through his nose. He was about to say something but the whistle rang again and it was time to change partners. So, all he did was flip Devin off before going over to the next guy.   
Practice went on but Michael was fuming inside. Every time he glanced at Devin he could tell that the other was watching him, assessing how he’s been holding up.   
When it was over, all Michael wanted to do was hit the shower and forget the whole morning. He was the first in the shower and as the hot water droplets touched his skin he let out a small sigh of relief. He was still angry but at least some of his bottled-up anger washed away with the dirt and sweat.   
Soon, the shower got crowded, loud voices echoing from the tile walls. Michael rinsed the rest of his shampoo out of his thick hair before turning off the water. He was about to go and get dressed when someone slapped his shoulder.   
“Have to say Townley, you didn’t do bad out there for someone who gained…what? 20 pounds? You gotta lay of the twinkies slick, they’re not good for you!”  
 _Calm, Michael. Calm._   
“Can you kindly fuck off, Devin?”, Michael asked, a warning look on his face. “I know exactly what you are doing”, he continued, his voice lower, so only Devin could hear it.  
Devin wasn’t intimidated, he just kept on smiling. “I don’t know what you are talking about! I’m not doing anything.”  
Michael smiled back. A biting tone in his voice. “Stop fucking around, I know you are after my position. You always were. But just because I gained a few pounds doesn’t mean that you stand a chance. You can’t touch me.”  
“I never doubted that. You are the best player here. Unless of course…”, Devin grinned, “you keep on eating like that.” As he said that he smacked Michaels stomach.  
 _Fuck calm_. That was it.   
Without even thinking about it, Michael punched Devin right in the face. The dull thump of the punch sent chills down his back. Now it was dead silent in the shower. The only thing one could hear was the sound of water hitting the tiles and Devin’s pain induced moans.   
He was lying on the ground, blood pouring out of his nose and dripping on to the floor where it mixed with the water and turned a bright pink. Devin tried to stop the bleeding with his hand but it just ran through his fingers, making an even bigger mess.   
Michael watched how Devin slowly got back on to his feet, almost slipping on his own blood. “You fucking asshole, Townley!” The rest of the team just looked at them in silent horror, nobody daring to say something to break the tension.   
Then the coach stepped into the shower. “What the hell is going on in here?!”  
Devin pointed at Michael. “Townley sucker punched me in the fucking face”, he blurted.   
The coach looked at Michael. Stunned. “You did what?”  
Before Michael could answer another member of the team, Kibbutz was his name, chimed in. “Well, to be fair coach, Devin did kind of call him fat. That shit ain’t cool, bro.”  
The coach sighed audibly before grabbing Michael by the arm. “I would suspend both of you right about now, but sadly we can’t afford that. Next game is in two months and we need to get you all back into competition shape. Now apologize, Townley!”  
“Sorry”, Michael said reluctantly.  
“You too Weston”, the coach barked.  
“Why do I have to apologize? He was the one who socked me in the face!”  
“He is also the captain, and don’t think I didn’t see how you taunted him back on the field. Now, say you’re sorry!”  
Devin wiped his nose again, staring at his feet. “Sorry.”  
“Good. Now shake on it and get to lunch. I’ll see you tomorrow”, coach said.   
Devin and Michael shook hands and the coach was satisfied. He walked back out and left the team alone. Michael was about to let go but Devin held on. He pulled Michael in closer until he could lean down to his left ear. “This isn’t over, Townley.”  
Michael looked up, unimpressed. “Never thought it was.”  
…  
……  
…  
It was 5 pm when he got back to his room, a new batch of books under his arm which he had to read for English class.   
Trevor was still on his bed, but this time he was awake. He sat there with nothing on but a pair of boxer shorts and scribbled dicks and moustaches into a Rolling Stone magazine. Something that looked and _smelled_ like a joint dangled from his lips.   
Great. As if Michaels day wasn’t shitty enough, now he had to deal with that. He put the books on his small desk, then walked over to Trevor and snatched the joint off of him.  
“Hey!”, Trevor yelled.   
“Are you fucking insane? You can’t smoke this shit in here.”  
“Who say’s ?”, Trevor asked mockingly.  
“The fucking LAW, dipshit”, Michael groaned, not believing that he had this conversation.  
“Well, for someone who cares so _deeply_ about the law, you didn’t mind taking that stolen whiskey, did you?”  
Michael rolled his eyes. “That is not the point. I don’t give a shit what you do, but don’t do it in here. I don’t want to get in trouble. You can take drugs under the bleachers like everybody else.”  
Standing up slowly, Trevor approached Michael and halted right in front of his face, only a few inches separating them. Michael forgot how tall the other was. The stared at each other, not breaking eye contact.   
“What makes you think, that I would listen to you, sugar tits?”, Trevor asked, his voice low. Menacing. But Michael didn’t budge.   
“Because, we are going to live together for a while and there has to be fucking rules to this. You can take this looney bad boy-bullshit and shove it up your ass.”  
They stared at each other for a while longer until Trevor cracked a grin. “Well, I gotta say, Mikey. Didn’t expect these balls on you.”  
“Don’t you worry about my balls. Now let’s cover some ground rules: No drugs in here. Also, I know you have a gun, and I don’t know where it is, but I don’t want it in here either. And don’t stash any stolen shit in here. And most importantly you leave me the fuck alone and I leave you the fuck alone. It’s all nice and friendly. Agreed?”  
Trevor chuckled and held out his hand. “You drive one hell of a bargain, but alright. Agreed.”  
Michael shook his hand. “Fuckin-A.”


	3. Blue balls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as promised here is the new chapter! I'll be uploading every thursday. 
> 
> Also, you porbably didn't know, but I do the art n shit and I uploaded some Trikey sketches based on this story, go and check it out! You find my art-blog on tumblr: eliotsartdump.tumblr.com

**Chapter 3: Blue balls**

“This is everything for today. And don’t forget ladies and gentleman, that your synopsis is due on Thursday. Have a nice day.”  
The lecture hall grew loud, the sound of slamming books and idle chatter bouncing off its walls. Michael packed his things and made his way out of the door. 

Back in his room, Trevor was sitting on the floor playing Tetris on a game boy while punk rock blared from the radio. He merely looked up as Michael entered before getting back to his game. Michael threw his backpack into a corner and sat down at his desk.  
“Can you turn it the fuck down? This shit is barely music.”  
Trevor looked up, a challenging look on his face as he leaned over to the radio and turned it up some more. Michael stood up, walked over and pulled out the cord, the music dying instantly. Now all you could hear was the infernal Tetris melody. “Fuck you, T.”  
Trevor chuckled, flipping Michael off. Michael rolled his eyes and was about to sit back down when something on Trevor’s bed caught his eye. He grabbed the stapled together papers. They were messy, soiled with what looked like coffee stains and barely readable.  
“The fuck…? How?”  
Trevor paused his game. “How, what?”  
Michael held it up for Trevor to see. “How the fuck did you get an A? What is this, physics?”  
“Chemistry”, Trevor answered nonchalantly.  
“Three weeks and I never, ever saw you attend a class.”  
Trevor grinned and snatched the pieces of paper away from Michael. “What can I say, I am a natural.”  
“Did you cheat?”, Michael asked.  
“Nope. I just happen to be smart.”  
“Okay, again. How?”  
“Why is this so hard to understand, you arrogant fuck? Not everyone is below you. You probably started out as a genius but got hit in the head too much during touch butt.”  
“Well, first of all, Fuck you. Second of all, why are you wasting away at community college if you are so smart?”, Michael asked, honestly confused.  
“Because it’s none of your business, jock”, Trevor snapped back, slowly getting more agitated. Now was the time to back off. So, all Michael did was roll his eyes and walk over to his closet.  
“Whatever, man. I don’t give a shit. I’m going on a date tonight.” As he said that, he opened the closet doors and started rummaging through his clothes.  
“Oh, you gonna wear a nice dress for him? I’d go for a short black one. A classic”, Trevor mocked.  
Michael flipped him off while pulling out some new looking levis jeans.  
“Speaking of date. I need you gone tonight.”  
“Hoping to score, eh?”  
“I _know_ I’m gonna score.”  
Trevor got up from to floor only to let himself fall back on his bed, his hands neatly folded behind his head. “Oh, yeah? And why the fuck should I go? Maybe I wanna join in.”  
Michael sighed before turning back to Trevor. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy. “I give you a hundred bucks. There is a party on the third floor of the dormitory. Go and crash that.”  
Trevor looked at him slightly impressed. “Oh wow, you have planned this, haven’t you?”  
“Sure did.”  
There was a short silence in the room as Michael got out of his clothes to put on the outfit for tonight. He could feel Trevor’s gaze lingering just a little too long. Whatever. Just ignore it.  
“That is quite a lot of work for a hook-up, sugar tits”, Trevor said, finally breaking the awkward silence in the room.  
“That’s because she isn’t just a hook-up. She’s my girlfriend.”  
“Oh wow, never took you for the monogamous type. No offense.”  
Michael smirked at that. “That’s because I’m not. But Amanda doesn’t know that.”  
“Ah yes. You truly are a gentleman”, Trevor mused sarcastically.  
“Yeah well”, Michael said, pulling a hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet, “next to you I look like a fucking saint.”  
Trevor laughed at that. “Yeah, if you say so, buddy.”  
For what felt like the tenth time this day Michael rolled his eyes before holding out the money to Trevor. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Do you want the money or not?”  
Trevor shrugged. “Sure.” He got up and took the bill from Michael, shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans. “How much time does Casanova need? I’m not gonna sleep on some shitty-ass couch at a party just so you can fuck.”  
Michael put on his nice leather jacket and squinted at the clock hanging on his side of the room. “Alright, just don’t show your ass until 1am, alright? Five hours should be enough to eat dinner and get laid.”  
“Alright, lover boy. Have fun.”  
…  
…….  
…  
As Trevor walked up the stairs he could hear the distinct bass of Nirvana echoing through the stairwell. When he reached the third floor, there were already drunk students standing around, laughing, chatting and some dancing.  
He made his way, not even bothering to not bump into people while doing so. It looked like the party was organized from four rooms in the middle of the hall. In search of some beer he walked into the first room he reached and wouldn’t you know, there was a big beer barrel standing invitingly in the middle of it. Jackpot. He got himself a red cup and took it to some far corner to sit down and watch the other students. He wasn’t in the mood to get too involved. Not yet.  
As he sipped his beer, he looked through the crowd. Every now and then he stopped on some good-looking girl or guy but got bored rather quickly. Until someone sparked his interest. There was a small guy in a green shirt who was talking to a huge dude, who probably was in the football team with Michael. The big dude handed the guy in green some money. Then the guy pulled a re-sealable plastic bag out of his pocket and subtly gave it to his costumer. _Oh…! This evening just got interesting._  
…  
“Oh, Michael, you shouldn’t have…”, Amanda squealed as she took the flowers from Michael. She smelled them with closed eyes. “Let me put them in a vase. I’ll be right back…!”  
Michael waited in in front of the door, absently staring at the sky who turned gradually darker. Amanda still lived with her parents. And unlike Michael she actually got along with them. Michael resented her for it sometimes.  
She came back and put on her jacket on the way out. After she closed the door behind her she leaned in and kissed Michael. “I missed you, babe.”  
Michael smiled. “Yeah, I missed you too. C’mon, I made a reservation, let’s not be late.”  
She grabbed his hand and smiled back. “Let’s go.”  
…  
Trevor lost sight of the guy in the green shirt. At some point he just slipped into the crowd and was gone. Frustrated Trevor looked around. This small motherfucker was super hard to spot. But… But the big guy wasn’t! Grinning, Trevor walked over to the big dude. He was surrounded by a few other jocks. _Damn_. Not really the best opportunity to talk to him. So, he waited. He mingled with the dancing crowd again but never let the meathead out of his sight. Then finally, after what felt like an hour (but probably was not more than fifteen minutes) the guy detached from his group and strolled out of the room. Trevor followed. It was amazing how gently this big guy made his way, he never even graced someone else’s shoulder.  
They left the big crowd behind and the guy took a turn around the corner. He walked into the bathroom. Perfect. When Trevor entered he was standing in front of the loo, just minding his own business. Trevor took the one right next to him and unzipped his pants. “Hey”  
The other guy seemed a little weirded-out by this but kept his cool for now. “Uh, hey bro.”  
“I’m Trevor.”  
“Uhm, okay”, the other acknowledged, his voice breaking a little. Was the guy blushing? Holy shit. Trevor grinned. This turned out to be more fun than he originally thought.  
“What’s your name?”  
The guy finished and zipped up his pants. He cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m Brucie.”  
“Nice to meet ya”, Trevor declared.  
“Uhh, yeah, likewise bro.” Brucie walked over to the sink and started to wash his hands. Trevor quickly joined him. “I don’t wanna annoy you or some shit but I saw you buy something from a dude in a green shirt.”  
Brucie exhaled in relief. “Oh, thank god, I thought you were hitting on me, bro!”  
Trevor lifted an eyebrow. Very obviously amused. “I wouldn’t dare. You are as straight as they come.”  
“Yeah Bro! I’ve been swatting pussy off me all night”, Brucie exclaimed, his unsure demeanour now completely gone.  
Trevor smiled a shark-like smile, revealing all his teeth. “I’m sure you did. Now about that guy…”  
“Oh right! Yeah that was Packie.”  
“Packie?”  
“Yeah, he is a senior. He deals with pills all over the campus.”  
Trevor leaned one arm against the wall, eyeing Brucie. “What kind of pills…?”  
Brucie shrugged. “All kinds of shit bro. But all I buy is bull shark testosterone anyway.”  
Big juicer muscles and small brain. A true stereotype. Trevor had to stop himself from laughing. “So, uh, you know where I can get a hold of him?”  
“You wanna get some testosterone too, bro? I could get you that shit for a good price, I know Packie’s supplier personally. He is my man, bro, he gets that shit just for me!”  
“Nah, that’s fine, I’m more interested in other substances. But thank you, buddy. So where does Packie hang out?”  
“His room is on the second floor, I think its number 12b. Just knock on the door five times, he’ll know what’s up.”  
Trevor nodded absently. “Alright, thank you.”  
Brucie beamed at him and threw his arm around Trevor’s shoulder. “Ah, no need, bro! Hey and sorry I assumed you were trying to bone me, man. Wasn’t cool of me.”  
“No problem, bro. But who knows, maybe I was.” As he said that, he smacked Brucies ass before leaving the bathroom.  
…  
“So, when are you leaving for France?”, Michael asked, taking a small bite of his steak.  
Amanda sipped on a glass of wine. “In two weeks. I still can’t believe my parents paid for everything. I’m so lucky…”  
“You sure are.”  
“Naw,Michael…” She took his hand and squeezed it gently. “It’s only six months and then I’ll be back. Aren’t you happy for me?”  
Michael smiled. “Of course I am. Not everyone can go travel right after high school.”  
She grinned at him. “Yeah, well. You know I am daddy’s girl. He would do anything for me. Next year I’ll go to college. You get a job in Los Santos and we’ll be together for good.”  
“Can’t wait.”  
…  
12b. There it was. Trevor looked around. He was standing alone in the hallway. Perfect. He knocked five times on the door. He heard heavy steps approaching the door. It swung open, but it wasn’t Packie standing in front of him. It was a black dude with glasses and dreadlocks pulled into a ponytail. “Ay yuh, whaddya wan’, man?”, the guy asked.  
“I was looking for a guy named Packie. Brucie told me he was here”, Trevor answered.  
“A’right, man, yuh can com in. Yo, Packie, it’s fo yuh.”  
The guy stepped aside and Trevor walked in. The room was filled with smoke and the smell of dope. Trevor grinned. _Found my people._  
Packie was counting a stash of bills, lazily sprawled out on his bed. He shoved the money back in his pocket and sat up. “How can I help you, man?”  
“I heard you’re the dealer around here. What do you deal?”  
Packie opened his arms. “Almost everything you can imagine. Around here we go mostly with Ritalin and Adderall. Helps to concentrate and is essentially weak cocaine. Students suck that shit up right before finals. My boy Little Jacob over there deals mostly in weed and ‘shrooms. What do you desire?”  
“Nothing.”  
Packie looked confused. “Then what the fuck are you doing here?”  
“I want to join the business.”  
…  
Michael sat on his bed, his back to the wall, Amanda on top of him. It was dark in the room, Michael could only see the shape of her. He kissed her along her neck as she grinded on him, savouring every moment of it. Since the start of the semester he didn’t get laid once and jerking off with a roommate was almost impossible. Especially when said roommate barely left the room…  
His hands roamed longingly all over Amanda body, giving a firm squeeze here and there. He was getting closer and he could feel that she was getting there too.  
But then the door swung open and Amanda got so scared, she almost fell off of him. The light from the hallway poured into the room and framed Trevor’s silhouette.  
“Sorry for the interruption, guys, but it’s 01:30 and I want to go to fucking sleep”, he announced. Then he nonchalantly walked in and slipped out of his shoes.  
“Are you fucking insane?! Could you at least knock?!”, Michael complained, his voice raised in frustration and anger. He fumbled with the blanket to cover his private parts. Meanwhile Amanda just picked up all her clothes and got dressed, clearly embarrassed about the whole situation.  
“Should have paid me until 2 am, sugar tits”  
“Fuck you”, Michael shouted.  
“Fuck me? No, no, no, it’s your fault for not watching the fucking time. Fuck YOU”, Trevor screamed back.  
Amanda was now dressed and kissed Michael on the cheek. “Call me tomorrow”, she said before storming out of the room. “Aw, shit- ‘Manda, wait let me drive you home!”, Michael managed to stammer in his rage but the door already fell shut behind her, leaving him and Trevor alone in the dark.  
Michael buried his face in his hands, cursing. “Fuck…Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…!”  
“Sorry ‘bout that.”  
Michael could literally hear the smug grin on Trevor’s face. No. Nah. He wasn’t going to leave it at that. He wouldn’t let that fucker win. Flicking the light back on he stared at Trevor. “What the actual fuck, you fucking asshole?”  
Trevor shrugged. “What? I even stayed out longer than we had agreed on. I don’t see where the fucking problem is.”  
“You. You are the fucking problem. I’m having blue balls over here!”  
A suggestive smile made its way onto Trevor’s face. “Want me to finish for her…?”  
Michael threw his arms up in complete frustration and puzzlement. “What??? No! I have no idea what your deal is, or if your mother dropped you on your head when you were a baby, but this _faggot_ shit ends right here. You got me?”  
Suddenly Trevors whole body language changed.  
“Fine, as if anyone would want to fuck your fat ass. You have bigger tits than your girlfriend”, he spat.  
Then Michaels alarm clock came flying. Trevor ducked right before it hit him, the clock connecting with the wall. Trevor was about to throw a textbook back but the sudden knock on his side of the wall made him stop. They both could hear a tired, muffled voice through the wall.  
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”  
Grumbling, Trevor let go of the book. They both glanced at each other one last time before finally going to sleep. Michael turned in his bed so he could face the wall, still fuming inside. _Fuck, I have to get a new alarm. Again…_


	4. Mr. Boss-man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T gets to meet the boss and M has a shitty day. Have fun!

**Chapter 4: Mr. Boss-man**

 

It was nine in the morning and the locker room was slowly filling up with players.  
Michael was getting ready, putting on his protective gear. An anxious energy was spreading through the team. Only one week left until their first game in this season. They desperately needed a win.   
Kibbutz came up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. “Yo, Captn’, do you have any deodorant…? I forgot mine.”  
Michael nodded. “Yeah, sure Brucie, just wait a sec”, he said while rummaging through his duffle bag. He then threw the can at Brucie who caught it with his right hand. “Thanks, bro.”  
When Brucie handed it back to Michael after using, he had a strange look on his face. “Uh, Mike, yo… Don’t you live with that Canadian kid…?”  
Confused Michael looked at him. Where the hell was this coming from? “Uh… yeah. Why do you ask?”  
Brucie shrugged, awkwardly griping his ridiculously huge bicep. “Nothing, bro. Nothing… It’s just, I think I had a run-in with him a few days ago and didn’t see him ever since. I was just wondering, bro.”  
Michael lifted an eyebrow at that. “Oh yeah? Well, you know as much as me buddy. We had a fight a while back and I have barely seen him since then... That psycho probably joined some gang, who the fuck knows, I don’t care”, Michael mused, a satisfied smile forming on his lips. At least that nuisance in his life has been silent for a while.   
Brucie nodded. “Okay.”  
“Hey Townley!”  
Devin came up behind him, throwing his arm around Michaels shoulder. _Speaking of nuisance…_   
Annoyed Michael glared at the other. “What is it?”  
Devin grinned at him. “Nothing much. I saw you and your girlfriend shopping the other day. I gotta say slick, she is pretty fucking hot.”  
Michael pushed Devin off of him. “I know that.”  
“Aren’t you worried that she will get some French baguette when she is overseas…? A girl like that…”  
“You know Devin, these mental games are getting super fucking boring.”  
“Naww c’mon slick, I would never play games with you”, Devin smiled, patting Michaels shoulder. _The nerve on this guy. Un-fucking-believable._ Everyday Michael felt like beating the shit out of him. But so close before a game that wasn’t the greatest idea. After all, he still wanted to win. Instead of a beating, Michael just flipped Devin off before walking out on to the field.   
…  
……  
…  
“Ay yo, man, yuh did well”  
“Gotta agree with Jacob on this. How did you sell so much in only five days?”  
Trevor proudly smiled at Packie and Jacob while they gaped at the stashes of drug-money he had in his backpack. It was one of the very rare rainy days in Los Santos. They stood together under the bleachers, completely alone, sharing a blunt. Trevor blew the smoke up in the air, watching the small cloud dance and disappear. “I’m a born businessman, gentlemen. Runs in the family.”  
“Well, let me tell you Trevor, you sure seem to fit right in with us”, Packie said. He took the blunt from Trevor and took a hit. “I think trial period is over. It’s time for you to meet our supplier.”  
Pleased, Trevor grinned. “Oh yeah? Who is the guy? Some old mafia dude?”  
“Nah, man, yuh be surprise’, I say. He is jus as yong as us, man.”, Jacob answered.   
“Yeah. His name is Niko. I think he is from Russia or something like that. He’s a good guy.”  
“He’s from Serbia, man. The big boss is from Russia.”, Jacob corrected.  
Trevor cocked an eyebrow. “So… He _is_ in the Mafia? Russians do have a mafia, right?”  
Packie thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah I guess. Although Niko does run it pretty independently. Him and his cousin. I think they just have to pay some kind of protection fee to the mafia. I dunno, I’ve never met the big man. Didn’t you see the guy once, Jacob?”  
It was Jacobs turn with the blunt. He took a deep hit before reciting his story. “Yah, man. Met him once when I was at Niko’s. Weir’ dude, yuh know wha’ I’m sayin’? Looks like an accountan’ or some shit, man. Dimitri Rasca-…somethin’.”  
“Whatever, man. You probably never gonna see him anyway. But what do you say…? You wanna meet Niko today? Or do you have anything else to do?”  
Trevor laughed. “Nope. Let’s go meet the Mr. Boss-man.”  
…  
……  
…  
Afternoon English class.   
As usual Michael sat in the far back of the lecture hall, only half-heartedly listening to the professor, who was going on about the accomplishments of Cormac McCarthy. His mind wandered, from practice, to his parents, to Trevor… Eventually he got stuck at what movie he was going to watch tonight. _Chinatown…Yeah, Chinatown sounds good…_  
And then the class was over. The Professor stood near the exit and handed every leaving student their graded assignments back. Michael was one of the last to leave. When he got his assignment back he immediately halted. Then he walked up to the Professor to pull her aside.   
“I’m sorry mam, but why did I get a D…?”, Michael whispered to her.   
“I graded it based on it’s quality, Mr. Townley”, she answered, not bothering to lower her voice. Michael cleared his throat. “Yeah but… I really tried this time. This should be worth at least a B.”  
“Mr. Townley, we don’t grade your personal effort. What matters is the result. You have to try harder next time.”  
Michael looked at her, he could feel his anger bubbling up. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright. Next time.” Then he left the hall.   
_Fuck you._   
_Fuck next time._  
 _I won’t do shit._   
…  
……  
…  
They talked through most of the drive, Packie driving, Trevor sitting next to him and Jacob chilling in the back. Trevor leaned his head against the cold side window, watching the buildings pass them by. The drive was longer than he had expected, driving from the heart of Los Santos to what looked like industrial parts. He never had been here before. _Man, should get to know these streets a little better…_  
The car pulled into a private area, tires screeching as the vehicle stopped in front of a run-down warehouse. Packie put in the hand break. “Here we are. This is where we get our stuff.”  
“Sure looks charming”, Trevor commented.   
“C’mon, let’s say hello”, Packie said before getting out of the car. Trevor and Little Jacob followed. The rainfall wasn’t hard but it was strong enough to get them wet but not quite dripping on their way to the entrance. Packie knocked on it. Five times, just as Trevor had knocked on their door a week ago. It swung open a few seconds later, a chubby guy with spotty facial hair stood in front of them. His accent was thick but you could tell that he had been in America for a while.   
“Eyy, Packie! LJ, my man! Good to see you, hehe.” The guy didn’t notice Trevor at first but when he did, he froze a little. “Uhm, who is the company…?”  
Trevor took off his backpack, opened it and showed it’s treasures to the guy. “Someone who’s going to make you pretty fucking rich, fatty!”  
Packie reassuringly grabbed the dude by the arm. “He’s a friend from college. And as you can see, a grade-A seller!”  
“Well…! I’m not gonna argue over someone who brings us money! Pleasure to meet you! I’m Roman.”  
Trevor shook Romans hand. “Trevor.”  
“What are you waiting for, standing out here in the rain, get in guys!”, Roman exclaimed, wildly gesturing at their wet clothes. He stepped aside and the group got in.   
It was way cosier in there as one would have imagined, judged by the shitty exterior of the warehouse. Well, most of it did just look like the outside, but one corner was nicely decorated. It almost felt homely. A carpet, a few sofas, a TV and something that was damn close to an actual kitchen. Roman sat down on a couch, spreading his arms invitingly. “Make yourself at home, guys! There is coffee on the stove. If you’re lucky it’s still warm.”  
Packie threw himself on the other couch. “Where’s Niko at?”  
“He’s in the back. HEY, COUSIN”, Roman yelled.  
The door of what looked like a former office opened and a guy in bootleg adidas pants and a white wifebeater stepped out. He was rubbing his short hair with a towel.   
“Oh, hey there Packie. And Jacob! Good to see you.” His accent was just as thick as Roman’s was. Niko sat down next to Packie, the towel hanging of his neck. He nodded at Trevor, who was pouring himself and Jacob a lukewarm cup of coffee. “Who’s this?”, he asked.   
Packie slapped Nikos shoulder. “That’s the guy we told you about, Niko.”  
“Ah, yes. Pleasure to meet you, Trevor.”  
Trevor took a sip of his coffee. “Nice to meet ya, Mr. Boss-man”, he exclaimed loudly.   
“Packie and Jacob told me you are a good seller.”  
“Well I guess then it must be true”, Trevor mused. Niko didn’t miss the sarcasm in his voice but gave it no further thought.   
“If they trust you, I trust you”, Niko stated.  
“Cheers! I’ll drink to that!”, Trevor shouted, holding up his mug.  
Niko looked over to Packie with a raised eyebrow but Packie just shrugged and smiled back. Jacob walked over and sat next to Roman. “Ey, yo, Niko! The boi sold all oua stuff, man. We need some moa.”   
Niko nodded. “I’m impressed. We got our hands on some more Adderall, that should keep you busy for at least two weeks”, Niko said, then looking up at Trevor. “They told you how we handle the money?”  
“Yep. We keep 20 percent. You get 30 and the big, big boss-man gets 50.”  
“That’s right. And as long as we keep it that way, Mr. Rascalov won’t cut our balls off. Or leave us in a ditch to die…”, Roman laughed, although there was a hint of uneasiness in his voice.  
Trevor grinned. “Sounds great!”  
…  
……  
…  
Michael was chilling on his bed, watching his VHS of Chinatown on his small TV when there was a knock on the door. Michael sighed, pausing the movie right at the moment where Evelyn Mulwray confessed that the girl in her room was her sister and her daughter.   
“Yeah?”, he called.   
The Door opened and the head of the receptionist pocked in. “Mr. Townley. There is an urgent call for you at the reception. It’s your mother.”  
Michael got up immediately. “Is everything alright?”  
The lady shrugged. “How am I supposed to know? Just come with me and take the call.”  
“Alright.”  
Michael followed her to the reception where she walked behind the counter and pulled out a phone, handing Michael the handset. Michael took it and held it up to his ear. “This is Michael.”  
“Michael, Honey! I’m glad I finally got a hold of you!”  
“What is it, Mom? Did something happen…?”  
“What? No, of course not! I just wanted to tell you that we got you a place.”  
Michaels heart sank a little. “Already…?”  
“Yeah, the real-estate agent said it was the perfect place for a young bachelor like you. It’s a little out of Town, near the beach. You’ll love it.”  
“Okay… uhm. Great!”  
“Listen, Michael, we bought you that place so you can start to take some responsibility. First, I wanted to buy you some furniture too, but your father and I agreed that this is the last thing we’ll pay for. So, you really need to get a job as soon as college is over.”  
“Does that mean I still get to go home after the first semester…?”, Michael asked, his mind racing. His mother went silent for a moment. “I don’t think that is a good idea, hon... I guess it’s not that great to stay in an empty apartment, so you might just want to stay in the dormitory.”  
Michael was twisting the chord of the phone in his fingers. “Yeah, I guess.”  
“This is a good thing, baby. We’ll send you the keys as soon as we can.”  
“Alright.”  
“Okay. Well, bye baby. I love you.”  
Michael nodded. “Yeah.”   
Then he hung up the phone.   
…  
……  
…  
“See you tomorrow”, Trevor said. He was standing next to Packie’s car, holding the door.  
“Yeah, man, see you then.”  
Trevor slammed the door shut and walked on to Campus. It was still raining, but he didn’t mind. His backpack felt heavy. Most of the money was gone, it was substituted by a few big stashes of Adderall. He had to think about how he was going to hide it since he no longer could just sell the stuff Packie and Jacob had. But he had an idea.   
When he got back to his room, Michael was nowhere to be seen. Perfect. He got down to his knees next to his bed and pulled a roll of duct tape out of his backpack. He had bought at a DIY shop on their way home. Then he took out the containers of Adderall. Lying down on his back he started to tape every container on the underside of his bed. When he was done he got up and inspected his work. Standing up or ducking there was nothing to be seen. So, unless anyone suspected he had any shit hidden in here, they wouldn’t just stumble over it.   
With a satisfied smile he put the two small piles of money he had left from his business under his mattress. This was going to be a _very_ lucrative year.   
He sat down on his bed and pulled out some porn magazines out of his nightstand when the door swung open and Michael tramped in, a sour look on his face.   
“Well, you look cheerful, sugar tits”, Trevor remarked.   
“Fuck off”, was the short answer before Michael fell back on to his bed and continued his weird movie from the 70s. Trevor shrugged. For once he wasn’t in the mood to fight.   
Maybe tomorrow.   
…  
…….  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much interaction between M and T in this chapter but don't worry, there is a big storm coming...


	5. He has a condition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M and T have a fight (again) and cops suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !Trigger warning!  
> !There is mentions of child abuse and some PTSD in this chapter!

**Chapter 5: He has a condition**

 

A spotless sky. The sound of hundreds of people talking. The smell of hotdogs and sweat in the air.  
The only coherent thing that could be heard was the voice of the commentator booming over the field.  
“Ladies and Gentleman, the break is over and we’re off to start the last quarter. Please return to your seats, the game is about to start soon. The Texas state bobcats are in the lead against the Los Santos coyotes with a score of 33:25. Let’s see if the team of Los Santos can turn it around.”  
Michaels heart was beating a thousand miles an hour as he was jogging back on to the field. He was dirty and his body was sore. Just like the rest of the team.  
They couldn’t start off the season like this. They _had_ to win…  
Coach had given them a pep talk to get them fired up again but Michael felt doubt nagging in the back of his head. They got into position. The last chance.  
The whistle rang and the game was on.  
…  
Michael sat in the back of the bus, his head resting against the glass.  
With his left hand he felt up his ribcage, silently wincing when he found the most painful spot. In the second quarter a player of the opposing team got him real good, ramming his shoulder right into Michaels side. Doctor on the field said it wasn’t broken but it sure hurt like a son of a bitch.  
Nobody on the bus was chatting, everyone just seemed to stare into nothingness, trying to figure out what went wrong. Then the coach got up from his seat and stood for all of the team to see.  
“Listen boys, this was a defeat, yes. But were not done yet. If we win the next game we’ll get to go on. So, take this loss and learn from it. I want you to train harder. We can beat this losing streak. Are you with me?!”  
Motivated shouting and clapping.  
Michael just tuned out and closed his eyes.  
…  
It was late when they got back to college.  
Michael grabbed his things and then dragged himself to his room. He was delighted to find it empty. Trevor was probably out, considering that it was a Saturday night.  
Michael threw his stuff in a random corner and got rid of his jacket, shoes and pants. He was in the mood for something fun, something that would take his mind off of things. And there it was. A VHS of animal house. He turned on the TV and shoved the movie into the recorder attached to it. A sigh escaped his lips as he laid down on his bed, adjusting his body so he didn’t put too much pressure on his sore ribs. The credits of the movie started to roll and with it, Michael began to relax, almost melting into his mattress.  
But then the screen started to flicker and he could hear the VHS making an angry humming noise.  
“What the…?”  
And then there was smoke. Michael got up immediately, rushing over to his beloved television set. He pushed the eject button, but it just wouldn’t spit the tape out. “No, no, no, no, no!!!”  
Panicked, he tried to pull the VHS out by force but it was stuck. He tried hitting the eject button again. Still nothing. “Naw, Come on!!!”  
Again with force. And this time it worked.  
But it seemed to be too late. The TV was running hot, puffs of smoke erupting out of the recorder. Michael just looked at it for a while, totally out of it. Then the anger spilled over. With a frustrated scream he threw the singed tape on the ground where it burst into pieces. “FUCK, FUCK, FUCKIN FUCK!”  
He was so pent up with all this frustration and anger he had no idea what to do with himself. So he punched the dry wall. A few pieces crumbled to the floor. He punched it again. And again. He stopped when he realized that his knuckles were bleeding.  
“Fucking A…”  
He exhaled loudly and buried his face in his hands.  
“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0…All good.”  
After he had calmed down a bit he decided that he should go out and get a drink instead of sulking in his room. He was about to get dressed but then he stepped onto one of the remains of the VHS. “AH! SHIT! FUCK!”  
He pulled up his foot where the piece had punctured his skin. Standing on one foot in the middle of the room, he tried to pick it out. He did, but in the process, he lost his balance and fell down, hitting his already hurting ribs on the edge of Trevor’s bed.  
Now he was sprawled out on the floor, hurting and tired.  
“Fuck me…”  
He stayed there, not sure if he had the motivation to ever stand up again. The light of the ceiling lamp blinded him, so he turned his head, choosing to just stare at the dirty floor. _I should clean more in here…_  
As he counted the amount of dust bunnies underneath Trevor’s bed something caught his eye. Finally finding the will to move again he reached under the bed and grabbed what was taped to it. He pulled the duct tape off the container and read what was on the label. _Adderall…_  
He glanced back to where he got it. At least five more of these containers were stashed up there. Michaels jaw tightened.  
…  
_That motherfucking bastard._  
…  
_I’m going to kill him._  
…  
……  
…  
Michael had planned on waiting for Trevor to come back, but around 4 am he just couldn’t stay awake. He woke up in the afternoon, the sun hitting his face. Groaning he slowly sat up, his body aching even more than before. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. Still no Trevor. And judging by the state of his bed he never even stopped by to sleep.  
“Guess we’ll be dealing with this later…”, Michael mumbled to himself. 

He didn’t do much that day. He only got out of his room to eat. Now that his TV went to shits, he spent most of his time reading, or senselessly staring at the ceiling, thinking how he was going to confront Trevor.  
It was 08:30 pm on the dot when the door swung open and Trevor waltzed in. He looked over to Michael, whistling. “Damn, you look like shit.”  
In an instant Michael was fuming again. Just like he was yesterday. But for now, he pretended to be calm.  
“Didn’t we agree that there weren’t going to be any drugs in here?”, he asked, glaring at Trevor.  
Trevor stared back, a blank expression on his face.  
“I have no idea what you are talking about, sugar-tits.”  
Michael grabbed the container of Adderall he had put on his nightstand and threw it at Trevor, who let his backpack fall to catch it.  
“Then what the fuck is this?”  
Trevor put the container hastily into his pocket. “Fuck you, man! I have a condition!”  
Michael wasn’t quite sure if he should laugh or scream. “Ah go fuck yourself, no you don’t, you sack of crap!”  
They stared each other down for a few seconds.  
“You know what?”, Trevor began, “Go and mind your own fucking business!”  
Michael stood up and got into Trevor’s face, teeth gritted and fists balled. “This IS my fucking business.”  
Trevor pushed Michael back, eyebrows furrowed and voice raised.  
“How I make money doesn’t have to concern you, Mr. Perfect. I can’t go running to my parents whining, uhhhuuu, daddy pwease, I need more cash to pay for that hooker over there, buhuhuuuu…!”  
That was it for Michael. He lashed out and punched Trevor in the jaw. And even though Trevor was stunned there for a second, he qickly was all over Michael, laying into him. While they exchanged blows they bumped into furniture, knocking off things in the process.  
Bam. Trevor got him on the cheek and Michael could feel the blood dripping from a cut. He had enough of this. It was a hassle but he managed to grab Trevor, bend his arm behind his back and pin him to the wall. That one year of wrestling he took in high school wasn’t a total waste of time.  
Using his weight and mass he restrained Trevor with a surprising ease, considering how hard the other tried to get out of the hold. Michael leaned in, hissing into Trevor’s ear.  
“Now you listen to me, you waste of oxygen…! You get that shit out of here or else I- Ah, SHIT!”  
Somehow Trevor headbutted Michael. Now blood was also dripping from his nose. But he didn’t let go. Instead he twisted Trevor’s arm a little further, getting a small wincing sound out of him.  
“Fucking bastard”, Michael pressed out. “You’re good for nothing, are you?”  
Michael felt Trevor tens up beneath him.  
“Somebody should teach you a fucking lesson.”  
…  
_Somebody should teach you a fucking lesson, fag. Your momma won’t so I guess I’ll have to_  
…  
Suddenly Trevor was completely still, a distant look in his eye. Michael was spooked, his grip loosening a little. “Trevor?”  
No answer. Something wasn’t right. Michael got nervous. “C’mon man, say something.”  
“…”  
“Let go of me.” Trevor’s voice was uncharacteristically calm.  
Michael was still confused, not sure if he should hold on to him or not.  
“Let. Go. Of. Me.”, Trevor repeated, now louder, his voice breaking a little.  
Michael finally let go, swiftly taking a step back. Hesitantly, he eyed Trevor.  
“Are you… Are you alright…?”  
Trevor slowly pushed himself off the wall and wiped away the blood from his bleeding brow. He didn’t look Michael in the eye. “Just… Fuck.”  
With that said he stormed out of the room.  
Michael just stood there, totally thrown for a loop.  
He looked at the mess they made. Then he sat down on his bed.  
“Damn…”  
…  
……  
…  
Trevor could feel his face swelling, but he ignored the pain. He just had to get out of there. No matter where to. He walked through campus, another student driving a bicycle came his way. Trevor simply pushed the other of the bike and stole it, driving off campus. He could hear the other scream curses at him. That made him feel better. A little.  
His stomach grumbled. He knew just the right place.  
…  
The Cluckin’ Bell was almost empty when he entered. He went up to the counter and ordered a number 9. As he was waiting a police man approached him.  
“Trevor Philips?”  
Weary, Trevor turned around, sizing the guy up. “Who wants to know?”  
The cop pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Another cop that looked like his partner came up to them as well. “You are under arrest.”  
“What the fuck are you talking about, what for?!”  
The Cluckin’ Bell employees all just stood there, watching the scenario unfold.  
“Hands behind your back and turn around”, the cop demanded.  
“Fuck you!”  
He tried to run away but the other cop got him and held him down on the counter. His partner cuffed him. “Let’s go.”  
…  
……  
…  
Monday morning and Trevor still wasn’t back.  
Michael had no idea what had happened last night and why that psycho suddenly got _like that_ , but he didn’t feel great about it.  
He sat at the table, pushing his cereal unenthusiastically around in his bowl, lost in thought. It was then, when the dean of college himself came up to him. Michael immediately dropped his spoon.  
“Mr. Townley. Fifteen minutes. A word. In my office.”  
Michael nodded and the dean left.  
He wasn’t in the mood to finish his food, he just threw it away and made his way to the dean’s office.  
When he knocked on the door he could hear the deans voice. “Come in!”  
Michael stepped in, carefully closing the wooden door behind him. On his way up here, his mind was racing, figuring out why he was called up. But now he saw.  
There stood Trevor accompanied by two police officers, hands cuffed and looking like he was put through the wringer. Michael felt a small twinge of guilt in his stomach.  
“Take a seat Mr. Townley. These officers just have a few questions regarding your roommate Mr. Philips”, the dean explained.  
“Alright.” Michael took a seat and nervously clasped his hands together. They felt damp.  
On of the officers smiled at him. “No need to be nervous, son. As your dean said, we only have a few questions. I’m officer Dave Norton. That over there is my partner Steve Haines. Now, I’m going to be blunt with you, Michael- Uh, can I call you Michael?”  
“Uh, yeah, sure.”  
“Well, you see Michael, your roommate here is in big trouble. There was an armed robbery a few weeks back and we have reason to believe that Trevor was the robber. According to the security camera footage, build and height fit. And considering that he already spent a year in prison because of similar charges over in Canada we had a close eye on him ever since he came to San Andreas.”  
Michael just stared at Trevor, silently mouthing: “Prison, really?”  
Trevor shrugged.  
_Why the fuck am I even surprised_ , Michael thought.  
Officer Norton continued: “It didn’t help him that we found a bottle of unregistered pills in his pants. And judging by the looks of it, you two had a fight, didn’t you?”  
Michael nervously tapped his fingers on his knees, shooting an unsure look at Trevor. He was staring at his dirty shoes but looked up for a split second to meet Michaels gaze.  
_I should just tell them everything and have him gone… Send him behind bars. Probably where he belongs anyway…_  
“Oh, no, I just came back from a tough football game, the other team was playing quite rough, you know.”  
Suddenly, Trevor looked up, eyeing Michael as if he had lost his damn mind. Michael wasn’t sure if he had. _Oh god, what am I doing…_  
Officer Norton smiled at him. “I can imagine. So, you guys getting along? You don’t happen to know where he got the drugs from?”  
Michael nodded. “Uh yeah. Well, no. He has this condition. ADHD, right? He must’ve gotten it from his doctor.”  
A grin started to form on Trevor’s lips. “Yeah! I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen”, he said to the cops. They visibly started to lose their patience.  
“Okay. Now, do you know anything about a robbery, Michael?”  
“Do you even have any witnesses?”, Michael asked, something dawning on him.  
The other cop, Haines, looked at him. Confused. “What?”  
“I said, do you have any witnesses that actually saw Trevor? His face? Seems a little sketchy to hold an exchange student in custody over night because a video footage _might_ resemble him.”  
“Now listen you little shit, We’re-” Haines began, but Norton quickly shut him up.  
“You’re right, Michael. We took him in because he looked like hell, it was late at night and we just happened to spot him on our break.”  
Trevor made a disbelieving “Tsk” sound.  
_You corrupt bastard_ , Michael thought. _Fuck it._  
“What day was the robbery…?”, he asked.  
“The third January”, officer Norton answered.  
“Well then it couldn’t have been Trevor.”  
“How so?”  
“Because we were hanging out that day. You spent that night at my place, didn’t you T?”  
Trevor smiled at the officers. A big, mocking smile.  
“Yep, sure did.”  
“Then why didn’t you tell us before, you little bastard?”, Haines barked at Trevor.  
“Because I don’t talk to pigs”, Trevor retorted.  
“Stop it! Both of you. You knew Trevor before he was your roommate? How did that happen?”, Norton asked.  
Michael just shrugged. “Met at a party.”  
Neither Haines nor Norton knew what to say in that moment. They shared a look before Norton pulled out a key and uncuffed Trevor. “Well, looks like you have an alibi.”  
Trevor grinned, rubbing his red wrists.  
“We’re sorry for the mistake.”  
“No problemo, compadre! Can we leave now?”  
The cops looked at each other again and then at the dean. The dean nodded.  
“I guess you can.”  
Michael got up and Trevor immediately threw his arm around his shoulder. “C’mon Mikey, let’s go!”  
As they walked out, Trevor leaned in, whispering: “Why the fuck did you do that…?”  
“I have no fucking idea…”  
…  
……  
…


	6. you look like an extra-large

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M and T try to get along. M is broke

**Chapter 6: You look like an extra-large**

 

Michael was standing in the bathroom, putting some disinfecting lotion on the cuts and bruises on his face. His free hand nervously tapped against the sink.  
He looked at his reflection and then rested his head against the smooth surface of the mirror.  
…  
_“So… What are we going to do now…?”_  
_“I guess we need to talk.”_  
_“Alright sugar-tits let’s get out of here!”_  
_“Not now, dipshit! I still have classes. Which, theoretically speaking, you do too… Let’s talk_ _tonight.”_  
_“I’ll grab dinner.”_  
_“Okay. Uh. I guess we see each other later.”_  
_“Yup.”_  
…  
Sighing he lifted his head from mirror and walked out into their room. Lost in though he sat down on his bed.  
A few minutes later Trevor walked in, Chinese take-out in both of his hands.  
“Alright, amigo! You wanted to talk, so let’s talk.”  
“God, I already hate this.”  
Trevor shrugged, sat on the floor and started to unpack the boxes of food. “I paid for dinner and you complain? Off to a fan-fucking-tastic start, buddy.”  
“You know what? You are right. Let’s just eat and clear the fucking air…”  
“Sounds like a plan”, Trevor agreed and offered Michael a box full of duck which he gladly took.  
Michael grabbed some chopstick and started to shovel some food into his mouth. Chewing, he was thinking about what he was going to say, not really sure where to start.  
“You can’t stash the drugs here. For real”, he finally said, tackling the biggest problem right on.  
“Where am I supposed to put them? I told you, I need the money. Also, I get a discount. Those are some damn well working conditions if you ask me.”  
Michael groaned. “That’s not the point. I don’t want this in here. I think, I established that. C’mon man. You owe me. Bigtime.”  
With a long sigh Trevor rolled his eyes dramatically before eating another spring roll. “Well, fuck. I guess, I do… Fine. I’ll find another place.”  
“Thank you.”  
They ate, silence filling the room.  
“So uh… how much money do you make…?”, Michael asked.  
Trevor started to grin, that weird spark in his eyes lighting up. “Curious about the oh-so-evil drug business, Mikey?”  
“No! I am just wondering…”  
“I get a percentage of what I sell. Let’s just say I get by with it.”  
“Huh…”  
Trevor chuckled. “Interested? I could get you in touch with Niko.”  
Michael scoffed. “Yeah sure. While we’re at it, let’s start a prostitution business and cook meth on the side.”  
“I heard the sarcasm, but that actually sounds like a great plan”, Trevor remarked.  
“Are you insane? Just leave me out of”, he gestured with his hands at Trevor, “all this.”  
“Your loss. God, you are such a pussy.”  
“Fuck you”, Michael grumbled.  
“Fuck you too.”  
They got quiet again. Michael dipped the last piece of fried duck into the sweet and sour sauce.  
“So, prison, huh?”  
Trevor nodded. “Yup.”  
“What for…?”, Michael asked.  
“No offense sugar-tits, but it’s none of your concern”, Trevor said, a weird look on his face as he glanced at Michael.  
“Alright, alright. Geez. But that were you got your shitty tattoos?”  
“Shitty? This is art. And yes, but only the neck tattoo.” Trevor pulled up his shirt, revealing his tattooed stomach. “This one I got after they let me out. It’s pretty self-explanatory.”  
That made Michael chuckle. “Yep... So… We good?”  
Trevor smiled his toothy smile. “Sure Mikey. As long as you don’t piss me off again.”  
Michael grinned. “Likewise.”  
…  
……  
…  
A few days later life had gone back to normal. Or as normal as it could get with a guy like Trevor as your roommate. At least this time he kept his word, there was no sign of any drugs in their room. Which was a huge relief for Michael. They both kept living their own lives but Michael did notice that Trevor was spending more time in their room when Michael was around. It wasn’t like they _actively_ hung out together, but Trevor did like to just sit next to Michael and do whatever he was up to. Sometimes commenting on what Michael was doing.  
Today was such a day.  
Michael was working on an essay about Mark Twain when Trevor glanced over his shoulder.  
“You might wanna change that, sugar-tits.”  
Michael looked up. “Why?”  
“You just wrote Mark Twain was a racist.”  
“This is an assignment about racism in literature. You know how many times he uses the N-word in Huckleberry Finn?”  
“Yeah, sure but you can’t just write down he was a racist and leave it at that. This shit as layers.”  
“Alright professor T. Enlighten me, how am I supposed to write this?”  
Trevor thought about it for a moment. “How about you start with how Twain grew up in a racist society and how that shaped his writing.”  
“Get fucked, if you are so smart, why don’t you write it.”  
Trevor grinned. “I’ll do it for 50 bucks.”  
Michael looked at him with surprise. “Seriously? Fucking-A, you got yourself a deal.”  
“Alrighty! C’mon hand it over, I’ll do Mr. Twain some justice.”  
Michael chuckled. “Yeah sure.” He handed Trevor the paper and grabbed a Walmart catalogue.  
Trevor sat down with the piece of paper and started writing something on it. He looked up at Michael who was flipping through the pages of the catalogue. “Shopping? I thought only middle-aged ladies with dusty vaginas do it this way.”  
Michael flipped him off. “Fuck you. I’m looking for a new TV slash recorder.”  
“Ah yes. Because Mr. Townley can’t survive without some cheesy movie from the 70s”, Trevor laughed.  
“Fucking right I can’t. Now shut up and try not to mess up my assignment.”  
“Oh, I won’t, you’ll see. If I get you at least a B you owe me another 50 bucks.”  
Michael rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. We’ll see about that.”  
…  
……  
…  
He had torn out the page with the TV of his dreams. The recorder was already built in and it only cost 250 bucks. With the page in his pocket he went to town on a Friday afternoon. It was warm as usual, Michael enjoyed the cool breeze as he was driving down-town with his motorcycle. First stop was at the bank. He walked up to the counter and put his card down. “I need 300 dollars cash, please.” The lady behind the counter checked her computer. She slid the card hesitantly back to Michael.  
“I’m sorry, Sir, but you only have 197 dollars left on your account.”  
Michael looked at her, dumbfounded.  
“What?”  
She turned the screen so he could see. There it was. In black and white pixels. His heart felt like it just had stopped. “Fuck…”  
“Do you want to clear out what is left on your account, Sir?”, the lady asked. Michael shook his head.  
“No… Just… Just give me 50, alright?”  
“Will do.”  
She gave him his 50 dollars in an envelope and Michael carefully slid it into his jacket. He thanked her before leaving the bank. Outside he just sat on his bike, staring at the steering-handle.  
It sure took a while, but the reality of his parents cutting him off finally hit him. He didn’t expect to burn through his saving _this_ fast.  
_Guess I do need to get a job now._  
“Shit…”  
…  
……  
…  
Five knocks as usual.  
Niko opened the door. “Hey Trevor, good to see you.”  
“Good to see you too, I got you the money”, Trevor answered.  
Niko made way for Trevor to enter. Roman was there too, sitting on the couch and eating a bowl of lucky charms. Trevor wondered often what Roman actually was doing in this operation. Seemed like he mostly sat on his ass all day, shovelling shit into his hole while Niko did all the work. But someone else was there too. Someone unexpected yet familiar.  
There stood Brucie Kibbutz, shadowboxing in the middle of the hall. As soon as he noticed Trevor he stopped, grinning from ear to ear.  
“Hey! If it isn’t the guy I meet in the bathroom!”  
Niko and Roman both shot a weirded-out look at Brucie. Trevor chuckled. “He didn’t mean it like that.”  
“Like what?”, Brucie asked.  
Niko just shook his head. “Ah, nothing. Forget about it.”  
Trevor passed his backpack to Niko. “Here you go. 600 bucks. I already took my share.”  
“Very nice. I’ll get you some Ritalin, we got a new shipment.”  
“Yeah, well that has to wait.”  
Niko was counting the money but looked up. “Why?”  
“Had a fight with my bitch-ass roommate a while back. He doesn’t want drugs in the room. So, I need to find a new place to stash it first.”  
“Makes sense”, Roman commented.  
Brucie came up to him. “You had a fight with Michael? That why he looked so fucked up at practice, bro?”  
A smile made its way onto Trevor’s face. “Sure did. Well, he got me good too. But were okay now.”  
“Damn, bro… Hey, uh… Why don’t you stash it at my place?”  
Trevor lifted his eyebrows in surprise. Niko and Roman did so too. “Really?”  
Brucie shrugged, scratching his neck. “Yeah, I mean why not…? My room is on the same floor as yours and my roommate won’t give a shit.”  
Grinning, Trevor grabbed Brucie by his shoulder. “That, buddy, would be fucking great.”  
Brucie started to smile awkwardly. “Sure thing, Bro’s help each other out! Right, Nikky?”  
Niko, not even aware that he still was part of this conversation just shrugged. “Sure.”  
“Well, then it’s settled, bro! We’re gonna be partners in crime and shit!”  
Trevor eyed him with a calculating look.  
“Can’t wait, _bro_.”  
…  
……  
…  
A few days later Michael got yet another rejection letter for a part-time job.  
_“We are sorry to inform you, that we decided to go with the other candidate. We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavours.”_  
Michael crumbled the letter into a ball and threw it in the trash. “Future endeavours, my ass.”  
Frustrated he sat down on his bed, face buried in his hands. If he didn’t want to go hungry he had to get a job in the next two weeks. “Piece of shit parents, why can’t you all just go to hell”, he murmured to himself. He grabbed his pillow and screamed into it, just for good measure. When he was done he let it sink to his knees. “Fuck my life.”  
Trevor stepped out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist. His messy hair was dripping wet.  
“Yeah, a rich white boy who is good at sports, your life must be a living hell. Those starving kids in Africa? They know nothing about your pain.”  
Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, slowly exhaling. “Can you just cut the crap? For once, asshole? Also, I am no longer rich, as you know…”  
“Sorry, I really do feel for you.”  
“Eat shit.”  
“You know, I could still introduce you to Niko”, Trevor proposed.  
“I don’t want drug money”, Michael sighed.  
“Well, suit yourself.”  
“Yeah, whatever.”  
Michael laid down, staring at the ceiling.  
“If Mister wouldn’t be too picky”, Trevor continued,” you could get a job at a Cluckin’ Bell or at Burger Shot. There is one not far from here, in Marina. I think I saw a ‘help wanted’ sign in their window the other day.”  
Michael let out a mocking laugh. “Yeah, as if I would ever sink that low.”  
…  
……  
…  
“So, Mr. Townley, have you had a job before…?”  
Michael shook his head. “No.”  
He was sitting in a booth, a snotty 18-year-old kid with acne sitting across from him, holding a clip-board and probably feeling real smug right now. Michael hated that kid. Almost as much as he hated himself in that moment.  
“Okay, well, that’s not that bad. See, we here and Burger Shot value trainee’s as much as any seasoned employee.”  
_I bet you do, you fucking nerd._ “U-hu.”  
“When could you start?”  
“Right away, I guess.”  
“Alright then, you are hired. You’ll work Friday evenings, Saturdays and Sunday morning.”  
“Okay.”  
“What size do you wear? Ah, don’t tell me, you look like an extra-large. I’m sure we have a uniform in the back somewhere. You have to wash it yourself, tho.”  
_I’ll give you extra-large, you little prick, I will take your stupid, fucking clip-board and shove it up your skinny, little-_  
“You heard me Michael?”  
“Uh… yeah. Wash the uniform, got it.”  
The kid handed him the clipboard. “This is your contract. Just sign here.”  
He signed it. Seeing his name on that contract almost hurt Michael on a physical level.  
“Welcome to the Burger Shot family!”  
_I wanna kill myself._  
…  
……  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter during night shift (and I'm uploading it during night shift. Fuck the night shift.) so every spelling error you might see? Yeah, I blame it on that. 
> 
> I'm going to write mostly at night the coming month, because appearantly my employer thinks sleep is obsolete. Anyway, hope you had fun, next update in one week!


	7. Deadbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T teases Brucie. M performs badly at his job and things escalate.

**Chapter 7: Deadbeat**

 

_“Dear Michael…_  
Paris is beautiful. I wish you were here, too… We went to the Louvre the other day. The history of this country! Anyway the people here don’t like Americans, but I made a friend regardless! His name is Jean, but it’s pronounced Shawn, isn’t that crazy? He’s showing me all kinds of things, places no tourist ever goes.   
I hope you are doing fine, and that you will win your next game! Write me back… I miss U. 

_-Love, Amanda”_

Michael pulled out the polaroid sent with the letter. It was picture of Amanda in front of the Eiffel tower, a big smile on her face as her arm was flung around some guys shoulder. Probably _Jean_.   
“Ugh…”  
He put the picture and the letter back in the envelope and ripped everything into shreds. He threw all of it in the trash and just sat at his desk in silence. He glanced over to a piece of paper lying next to him. The essay he got back this morning. Trevor’s essay. On it a B written with a fat red marker, staring at Michael. Mocking him. “That son of a bitch…” The fact that he had to pay Trevor another 50 bucks only added insult to injury.   
Sighing he looked at the clock. 06:30 pm. _Well… Here we go again…_  
Michael was already wearing that heinous Burger Shot uniform, looking completely lost in it. Probably because it was too big on him, and his sorry excuse for a boss wouldn’t let him get another one. He let out another heavy sigh as he grabbed his jacket and went out the door.   
…  
It was calm as usual at a Friday evening. Only one dude who must have been tripping balls was sitting in a booth, staring at his half-eaten burger with a strange fascination. Most customers would roll in later, after they had gone out and needed to sober up.   
Michael was standing behind the counter, wiping sweat from his forehead, looking and feeling miserable. His back hurt because he wasn’t used to standing around for this long. So, he rested his arms on the counter and leaned on it, stretching his back a little. And there came guard dog McFuckboy from out of nowhere.   
“It’s not your break yet, Michael.”  
 _I will murder you._ “Sorry, Lazlo”, Michael said, reluctantly straightening up again.   
“It’s Mr. Johnson”, the kid corrected.  
“Yeah, what-fucking-ever.”  
“And put on a smile, for god’s sake. You are scaring away customers.”  
 _What fucking customers, you little bitch?_ He put on a fake smile which faded as soon as Lazlo marched back into the kitchen to bother someone else. An hour passed by with absolutely nothing happening. Michael was so bored, he started to count the grease stains on the walls. He didn’t even hear the door when Devin and a few other guys of his team waltzed in.   
Devin was just as surprised to see Michael here as Michael was to see Mister ‘I only eat organic’ at a fucking burger joint.   
“Well look at that! Michael Townley! I didn’t know you worked here”, Devin stated loudly, smiling wide.  
“Yeah, well. I do, okay?”  
“Mommy and Daddy cut you off, huh slick?”  
“Fuck you.”  
“Hey, don’t be so defensive, I’m only joking! Now how about some burgers for me and the boys. Make that a double for Joe over there. Chop, chop Mikey!”  
Grumbling Michael put in the order and opened the register. “21,99”  
Devin handed him thirty. “Keep the change, slick. You seem to need it.”  
Michael took the money and threw the change back on the counter. Then he turned around to go into the kitchen. He walked up to the girl who was preparing the burger. He leaned in and whispered in her ear: “Let me spit on it first.”  
…  
……  
…  
Trevor was pounding the door with his fist.   
“HEY, BRUCIE!”  
Brucies roommate opened the door, a pissed look on his face. “Fuck, man, why can’t you knock like a sensible fucking person?”  
Trevor grinned at him. “Luis! Buddy! I just wanna make sure you guys know it’s me.”  
“Mission accomplished.”  
Brucie just stepped out of the bathroom, already grinning wide as soon as he saw Trevor. “Trev! My man! Get in here, bro!”  
Trevor pushed himself past Luis, which wasn’t an easy task considering Luis was a fucking tank. Only after Trevor managed to squeeze past him, he felt the need to step aside.   
“Whatever you guys are up to, just give me a minute so I can get out of here”, Luis said, slipping into his sneakers.   
“No problem, dude, take your time”, Brucie said.   
“Fuck no.”  
And with that said he was gone, leaving Trevor and Brucie alone.  
“So…”, Brucie began, “what’s up, bro?”  
Trevor shrugged. “Just here to get my stuff. Friday evenings is when I sell the most.”  
“Man, Niko B. wasn’t kidding when he said you were a great seller. You already got rid of that stuff I gave you yesterday?” As Brucie was talking he got up on his bed and reached atop of the cheap ikea cabinet, pulling down a black suitcase.   
“Yup.”  
Brucie put it on his bed, jumped down and opened it for Trevor, revealing what looked like a wet dream for drug addicts. Trevor was about to grab some stuff, but then Brucie put his hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eyes intensely.   
“You. You are genetically different man.”  
Trevor couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s what they say.” He opened up his backpack and threw a bunch of drugs inside.   
“No, man, I mean it. We’re the same.”  
Trevor froze there for a second, furrowing his scarred eyebrow.   
“In what way might that be?”  
“We’re winners, bro! We don’t just dream, man, we make dreams reality. Genetically different bro, that’s what I’m talking about!”  
Internally Trevor shook his head. “Yeah, buddy.”  
“Hey, mind if I ask you, how you sell so fast? Exchange some business strategies, if you get what I mean.”  
Trevor had to think about that for a moment.   
…  
 _“I take one container.”  
“How ‘bout you take three?”  
“Why would I take three???”  
“Why would I smash your teeth in and wear them as a necklace? All questions, that cannot be answered…”  
“Geez, alright, I take three.”_  
…  
Then he shrugged.   
“Guess I’m good with words.”  
Brucie nodded. They looked at each other.  
“Brucie.”  
“Yeah?”  
“You can let go of me now.”  
Not realizing that his hand still was on Trevor’s shoulder, Brucie quickly pulled it back and immediately started to put the suitcase back where he got it.   
Trevor just had to grin at how clumsy Brucie tried to redeem himself. _The depth of a closet…_  
“You alright there, big man?”  
“Uh… yeah, bro! I’m just a little-”, he made a shaking motion with his open hands.  
“That the testosterone that Packie gets ya, eh?”  
“Yeah, bro.”  
“I’m not a doctor, but maybe you shouldn’t take too much of that stuff.”  
“What? Why? Did Niko say something about funny balls?”  
Trevor gaped at him. “What?”  
“Uh…Nevermind…”, Brucie stammered. “I’m. Uh… I’m going out tonight. You want to tag along?”  
Trevor closed his Backpack and threw it on. “Thanks for the invite, but no, I wanna get rid of at least a third of this load tonight.”  
“Oh, alright.”  
Grinning, Trevor looked the other man up and down before taking a step closer, trapping him between himself and the bed. “If you want to have some alone time with good ol’ Trevor here, you just have to ask, porkchop.” Teasing, he leaned in even closer, his hand touching Brucie’s lower abs. He could feel how the muscle under his fingers tensed up. Brucie stared at him wide eyed. Then Trevor let go.   
“Anyways. See ya.”  
With that said he turned around and walked out.   
…  
……  
…  
He used to enjoy Saturdays. But that was no longer the case.   
It was 08:00 am when he had to start at work, usually scrubbing the tables first. Then he would spend the rest of the morning behind the counter, serving customers who, most of the time, turned out to be fucking morons.   
…  
 _“I take a cheese burger.” – “alright.” – “But no cheese please” – “uhh, so a regular one?”  
“I take the, uhhhhhh…..Just wait a second, uhhhh……”  
“Can I use your bathroom?” – “You have to order something first” – “ Fuck you, soldiers are giving their lives to keep this country free!”_  
…  
It was a blessing when lunchbreak came around. But after witnessing how they prepared the burgers he no longer ate there. He just sat in the back with a co-worker and scrounged cigarettes. A shitty habit he picked up on his second day. The upside to it was he lost two pounds.   
The hour was over quicker as one could imagine. There he was, standing behind the damn counter again, reliving the nightmare of that morning. But there was one uplift.  
Around 04:00 pm a surprisingly good-looking girl came in, making eyes at Michael. She walked up to the counter, remaining eye-contact, a coy smile on her face.   
_Game on, Michael._  
He smiled nonchalantly back, leaning on the counter. “Hey there Darling, what can I get you?”  
She giggled. “Just a salad and a diet coke… You off work soon…?”  
Michaels smile widened into a grin. “You going to wait for me…?”

He fucked her in the bathroom, pressing her against the wall while shushing her moans with his hand. Probably not the most dignified moment in his life, fucking a strange girl in a dirty bathroom stall, still wearing his Burger Shot uniform. Hell, probably even less of a dignified moment for her.   
When they were done, they parted silently, sharing a kiss before she took off and Michael punched out.   
…  
……  
…  
Sunday Morning. Same routine as Saturday. Only more boring. Usually, only old people and weirdos came in on a Sunday. This was a particularly slow day, Michael didn’t get cursed out even once. And Laszlo wasn’t going to be around until the noon shift started. Michael was going to be gone by then. Or so he thought. He was about to leave when Lazlo walked in, pointing at him.   
“You can’t leave.”  
“What the fuck are you talking about, my shift’s over.”  
Lazlo rolled his eyes. “I know, but Chelsea is sick, we need someone to cover for her.”  
“C’mon man, get someone else.”  
“You’re already here Michael. Also, it says in you contract that we are entitled to put you on an extra shift if needed.”  
Michael wanted to punch him in his acne-riddled face so bad. “Fucking fine”, he exclaimed, stomping back behind the counter. Lazlo glared at him. “Smile!”  
His mouth twitched into something that one only could call a misery of a smile. “There you go.”

This was it. This was where he was going to die. At least it felt like that. His gaze was basically glued to the clock, but no matter how long he stared at it, time just wouldn’t pass faster. It actually felt like it was going slower. _This is what your life has become, Michael…_  
The sun was setting when a group of guys walked in. Michael didn’t pay attention he was too busy mopping mushed burger and fries off the floor. But he immediately recognized that voice.   
“Hey, sugar-tits! Look at you, Mr. working-man!”  
The universe was playing a dirty trick on him. It had to be.   
He looked up and saw Trevor standing at the Counter, waving at him. He was accompanied by two other guys. Michael knew they had to be his dealer-buddies. He had seen them strolling around campus. Usually in dark corners.  
He flipped Trevor off before getting back to his cleaning duties. He couldn’t see Trevor’s shit-eating grin but he knew it was there.   
Trevor and his group got their food and sat down at a table near Michael. Trevor still grinning like a mad man.   
“You look adorable in your uniform, Mikey!”, Trevor said between chewing.  
“Yeah man, brings out your eyes”, the small guy added.  
“But it’s a bit big, rasta, gotta get that ting changed, yo.” The other dude chimed in.   
“Can you shut the fuck up?! Who are these fuckers, Trevor?”, Michael hissed at them.  
“Oh right, you never met my friends…! Sugar-tits, this is Packie and Jacob. Packie and Jacob; this is sugar-tits.”  
“I don’t care, just…Get the fuck out of here…!”  
“That’s no way to talk to a customer, buddy”, Trevor said, miming fake outrage.   
“I swear to god, T. I’m this close”, he pinched his index finger and thumb together, “to murdering you.”  
A shrieky voice behind him made him startle.  
“What are you doing, Michael?!”  
Michael turned around, a twitching smile on his face. “I’m sorry Lazlo, but this is none of your fucking business.”  
Lazlo’s face started to turn red. “It’s still Mr. Johnson to you! And you can’t talk to our guests like this, are you insane?”  
“Naw, c’mon these guys are hardly guests.”  
“You better watch yourself buddy, you already got two strikes, another one and you are fired!”  
Michael scoffed. “Another? What did I get the first two strikes for?!”  
Lazlo lifted up his hand, counting with his fingers as he talked. “First: you came in late the other day. Second: You had sexual relations with a customer _on company time._ ”  
“Wuhuu, way to go, Michael!”, Trevor cheered.  
“If he gets paid for fuckin’, doesn’t that make him a hooker?”, Packie asked. Jacob started to chuckle.  
“Shut up!”, Michael barked.   
Lazlo crossed his arms, looking up at Michael, his stubby nose held high.   
“If you want to keep your job, you apologize to these gentlemen. And you’re not getting this day’s pay.”  
Michaels face went pale in a second “You are kidding me. You can’t do that.”  
“I can and I will. We here at Burger Shot don’t have a place for _deadbeats._ ”  
They stared each other down. Michael needed this job. He needed the money. And he stilled owed Trevor 50 bucks. Considering this he was about to back down, swallow his pride and apologize but all of a sudden Trevor climbed over the table and towered over Lazlo.   
“What did you just call him…?”   
Lazlo looked scared. But he didn’t back down. “I called him what he is. A deadbeat.”  
Trevor grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him in closer. “Now listen to me you little shit. This guy might be a deadbeat. But he is my deadbeat.”  
“Hey!”, Michael yelled out. Trevor just went on, completely ignoring Michael.   
“I’m the only one who is allowed to call him that, you understand that, piss-boy?”  
“If you don’t let go off me, I- I’ll call the police!”, Lazlo stuttered.   
Michael wasn’t quite sure what this was or why Trevor suddenly got _territorial_ but he had to do something. Hesitantly, he put a hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “C’mon man, I think he got it.”  
Trevor glanced back at him, a crazy glint in his eye.  
“Has he cut off your balls, or what? How could you let a kid who probably hasn’t even finished high school yet talk to you like that?! What happened to the guy who almost beat the shit out of me?”  
Michael sighed. “I need a job, Trevor.”  
“But is it worth this…?”, Trevor asked, shaking Lazlo.   
Before Michael could answer Trevor headbutted the kid in the face, blood spurting from his nose, going down with a pained scream.   
“WHAT THE FUCK, T!”  
Blood was trickling down Trevor’s forehead. He looked at Michael. “He deserved it.”  
The rest of the staff and the customers who hadn’t left already just stood around, looking at them with a mixture of fear and excitement.  
Michael couldn’t find the words anymore, he just stared at Trevor, mouth gaping. The small, withering figure of Lazlo got up on his hands and knees, tears streaming down his face as he looked up. “You fucking animals! You are all banned! Michael you are fucking fired! You going to pay for this you son of a b-”  
Michael kicked him in the ribs, watching him go down again with an indifferent expression on his face. He pulled the shitty Burger Shot hat off his head and looked at it for a second. Then he flung it at Lazlo. “Fuck you. I quit.”  
Laughing out loud Trevor slapped Michaels back. “YEAH! That’s what I’m talking about! C’mon guys, let’s get out of this dump before the cops show up!”  
Packie and Jacob were the first to run out the door. Trevor grabbed Michael by the collar and dragged him with them.   
…  
……  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brought to you by the night-shift. All hail sleepless nights.


	8. bad trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M takes drugs, see's a bunch of shit and him and T have a conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering that this chapter has explicit discriptions of psychedelic drugs and their effect in it, here's a little information:  
> I am in no way trying to glorify drug use. BUT if you ever consider to take psychedelics, be sure you have someone who is sober and is ready to take care of you. Be sure you are mentally stable. And the best advice probably is to just not take drugs. But if you do, do it the safe way. Thank you for reading my pep talk.

**Chapter 8: Bad Trip**

Laughing. Crazy rock music. The neon-lights of the city. The faint sound of police sirens in the distance. Michael felt like he was in a different realm. Someplace not even the twilight zone could touch. He was sitting in the backseat of a dirty car. Trevor next to him talking loudly to the two guys in the front seats. Trevor’s dealer buddies.   
As Michael looked at the reflection of himself in the window he realized that he was still wearing the burger shot uniform. Almost lost he stared at his name tag.   
“Holy shit. I kicked my boss”, Michael murmured, not even realizing that he said it out loud.  
“You sure did, sugar-tits. I’m proud of ya.”  
Michael turned around, glaring at Trevor. “How am I supposed to get money now?!”  
“Eh. You’ll figure it out.”  
“Fuck. I shouldn’t have done that.”  
Trevor slapped Michaels shoulder reassuringly. “C’mon relax! This ain’t the end of the line.”  
Michael scoffed. “It sure feels like it.”  
Trevor rolled his eyes. “You’re such a pessimist. Let’s just chill. The night is young and we have a shit ton of alcohol in the trunk. Isn’t that right, boys?”  
“That’s right!”, Packie shouted.   
Michael shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Don’t you guys all have classes tomorrow…?”  
A moment of silence.  
Followed by booming laughter.   
“Man, you need to widen your horizons. I got jus’ the ting”, Jacob commented, pulling out a plastic bag out of his jacket. He passed it to Michael who hastily caught it. He eyed the contents suspiciously. “What the fuck is this?”  
“It’s called magic mushrooms, my friend. Give you the visions. Good stuff”, Packie said.   
“I don’t take drugs.”  
“Those are no drugs, Mikey. Those are mind-expanders”, Trevor added.  
Michael silently looked down at the bag in his hand. Packie studied him through the rear-view mirror.   
“Do you drink, Michael?”, he asked.   
Michael shrugged. “Sometimes.”  
“Well, this stuff is a lot like that. Only difference is, it’s illegal and the other shit isn’t. You know how many people die because of alcohol poisoning? Just because you can get some things in a store and not from a shady dude in a dark alley doesn’t mean they are less dangerous.”  
“Good point”, Michael had to admit.   
“Just try it Michael. You had a shitty day, I can see it in your sour puss-face. And what’s the best remedy for a shitty day? A night out with the boys. Forget for a few hours.”  
Unsure, Michael looked up at Trevor. “I…Fuck, I don’t know man…”  
The car stopped at a red traffic light. Packie took hold of the conversation again, turning around, addressing Michael directly. “Listen, I know this seems kind of scary at first. But this stuff is really not that bad. It doesn’t get you addicted. You won’t get a hangover. And as the driver I’ll stay sober to make sure you guys are okay and don’t do anything stupid. This is safer than you going to a club and getting shit-faced.”  
Looking from Packie, to the bag of mushrooms, to Trevor, Michaels uncertainty slowly started to fade. With a defeated sigh he opened the bag. “Alright. I’ll try it.” He glanced at Trevor. “But I’m not going to take this on my own.”  
Trevor grinned. “Shit, you don’t even have to ask, baby. Take one of the small ones. We don’t want your simple mind to be blown away, my padawan.”   
“Fuck you, Luke Shitwalker”  
Michael took the smallest piece he could find at stuffed it into his mouth. It tasted horrible and it took a few attempts before he could actually swallow it. By that time Trevor already ate one and Jacob was going for one too.   
Michael leaned back, his fingers drumming on his knees. He didn’t feel anything at all.   
“And now?”  
“Now, we wait.”  
…  
……  
…  
Colors really looked fucking vibrant. Michael was never aware that colors could be this pretty. They even sounded lovely. Every color he saw hummed a different note. He liked blue the most. It sounded like all of his favourite Rolling Stones songs combined.   
He wasn’t quite aware of where he was, but they must have been some place really high. All of Los Santos and its light extended beneath them. He smelled the fresh air. Nothing was polluted by burning fossils or human waste. Beautiful.   
“Sit back down, Mikey, or you’re going to fall down!”  
Michael looked down at his feet. He was standing at a ledge. He took a careful step back. Someone pulled him down by his shirt. He sat down. He looked to his left. It was Trevor. His eyes were a glowing red. Michael never noticed that before. He stared at him for a while when something behind Trevor got his attention. It looked like Amanda. But older. And with bigger tits.   
_“Michael, you piece of shit!”_ , she screamed, her voice echoing through his mind. Michael started laughing. This wasn’t even funny. “You’re one to talk, you slut. What does Jean’s cock taste like? I bet it tastes like fucking camembert.”  
“Who the fuck are you talking to?”, Trevor asked. Michael could hear his voice, but it was so far away and easy to ignore.   
Jean was sitting at Amanda’s feet, kissing them. She threw Michael a coy smile.   
_“You always were a disappointment. Talentless. Loveless. A disgrace.”_  
She started to sound more like his mother than herself.  
“Fuck you.”  
 _“No good son. No good boyfriend. No good employee. You are a mindless, violent thug. You always were.”_  
“That’s not true, you fucking bitch!”  
 _“Remember the time you beat a kid unconscious?”_  
Amanda and Jean were gone, now a small boy, not older than ten years stood there. His blond hair was sticky with blood. A few of his teeth were missing. His right arm was broken and just dangled at his side. Michael felt a weird tingling sensation in his knuckles and looked down. They were plastered with fresh blood. The boys voice was shrill and hurt in his ears.   
_“I-I w-w-was in the hospital f-for a w-w-w-week. I still can’t talk w-without a stutter to this fu-fu-fucking day. All because I told on you…”_  
Michaels voice was shaking. “I said I was sorry.”  
 _“No, you didn’t. Your dad payed my family so we wouldn’t say anything. All because-”_ , the boy morphed into the looming shadow of Michaels father, _“I couldn’t let my only son go down that road. I hoped you could change. Hoped you wouldn’t turn out like your uncle.”_  
“I did change”, Michael pressed out between gritted teeth. A nauseous feeling washed over him.   
_“Maybe. But you don’t really mean it, do you, son? You hate it. You hate this persona you’ve created.”_  
A hard slap pulled Michael out of his drug infused haze. Trevor’s voice was clear as day again. Michael looked into his hellish red eyes and smiled. He saw demons dancing around burning hot flames and his nausea was gone.   
“Hey Packie, I think Michael is having a real bad trip.”  
Packie’s rough face pushed into view and Michael could feel his cold hand on his forehead. “He’s gonna be okay. Hey, Michael. Look at me.”  
Lazily Michael tried to pull away his eyes from Trevor’s but it took some time before he could look at Packie. A chuckle escaped his lip. “Has anyone ever told you, that you have a real mean mug?”, he asked. “Yes, LJ tells me this every damn day”, Packie replied. Michael heard Jacob laugh. “That’s because you do, rasta.”  
Packie shook his head. “Concentrate Michael. Think about something nice. Ice cream on a hot day, some shit like that.”  
“I love ice cream”, Michael slurred.   
“Sure you do, chubby. See, Trev? He’s fine.”  
…  
……  
…  
Michael slipped in and out of awareness through the night. After a few hours the mushrooms started to wear off. He regained clarity when he was sitting at the beach, a fire burning in front of him. The soft sound of waves crushing at the shore grounded him back in reality. He stared into the flames and then looked around. Trevor sat on the opposite side of the fire, jugging down a can of beer. Blinking, Michael looked down at his wristwatch. 4 am.   
Looking past the watch he noticed that he wasn’t wearing anything but boxer shorts.   
“Uhhh, hey T…?”  
Trevor drained the last bit of his can and threw it over his shoulder. “Yeah?”  
“Where the hell are my clothes?”  
Trevor started giggling. “You used ‘em to light that fire. Said something along the lines of ‘fuck the establishment’ before stripping. It was super entertaining.”  
Michael stared at Trevor, realizing that, he too, was only in his underwear.   
“And what happened to your clothes?”  
“Solidarity.”  
They just looked at each other before bursting out laughing. Michael lied down, rolling around in the sand, trying to catch his breath again. “Hahaha…Man. What a night.”  
“You want a beer?”, Trevor asked.  
“Sure. Throw me one.”  
Trevor threw it and Michael caught it with expertise. He opened the can and took a sip. He then looked around again.  
“Where are Packie and Jacob?”  
“Went back to the dorm. I told them l would get me and you a taxi.”  
“Okay.”  
Silence.   
“So…”, Trevor began, “How as your first trip?”  
Michael threw a bit of sand into the fire, watching it hiss in response. “Frightening. But kind of awesome.”   
“Yeah, you did get super weird at one point…”  
“Huh…”  
Silence. Again. Only the sound of waves. Michael studied his toes for quite some time.   
“Hey T?”  
“Yup?”  
“Why did you beat up Lazlo for me?”  
“Because I consider you a friend. And I’m the only one who get’s to be shitty to my friends.”  
Michael took another sip of his beer, contemplating what Trevor just said.  
“Well, fuck me. I think we are friends.”  
“Don’t act so damn surprised, dipshit”, Trevor pouted.   
Chuckling, Michael looked up. “It just seems unlikely. How the fuck did this even happen?”  
Trevor ruffled his unkempt hair, a frustrated look on his face. “How the fuck am I supposed to know? Most of the time I can’t stand your fat ass.”   
Michael grinned. “Likewise.”  
Trevor flipped Michael off, but he was smiling while he did it. Then he let his hand sink back into the sand again. Thinking, he bit his lip as he stared into the flames dancing in front of him.  
“In the dean’s office. When you lied to the cops. I saw you.”  
Michael scoffed.   
“No shit, Einstein, we were in the same damn room.”  
“No! Not like that! I saw _you_. The real you!”  
“The ‘real’ me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”  
Hesitantly Trevor shrugged. “I dunno. Sometimes that ‘I’m a good guy’-behaviour just seems really damn phony. I think you are a lot more fucked up than you’d like to admit.”   
Michael let out a mocking laugh. “What kind of edgy teen shit is that? What are you, a psychiatrist?”  
Trevor glared at him. “Fuck you, deep down you know I’m right.”  
“Yeah sure”, Michael said, sarcasm dripping from his words. “If I am so fucked up and dark, then what the hell are you?”  
“Hey, I know I am a bad person. But I have the decency to admit it. Which makes me better.”  
Michael rolled his eyes. “Eh, eat a bag of dicks.”   
They both stopped talking for five minutes. They just stared into the fire. Then Michael sighed.   
“Trevor?”  
Trevor looked up again. “Yeah?”  
“Are you happy?”  
The other was taken aback a little by that question. But he did give it a brief thought before coming to his conclusion. “Yeah, I am. I mean, it’s like I said. I am not nice. I did some real horrible shit. But in a way… In a way I am at peace with myself…”  
Michael nodded. “Hm…”  
A beat. Trevor then returned the question. “Are you happy, Michael?”  
“Sometimes, I guess”, Michael replied. He honestly wanted to say yes. Desperately wanted it to be a certain yes. Just like Trevor’s. But he couldn’t.   
“That’s kind off depressing, sugar-tits.”  
“Yeah...”  
Considering Michaels weird facial expression Trevor decided to change the subject. “Speaking of depressing, I really feel bad for that guy in your team… That Brucie-dude.”  
Michael looked up confused. “Kibbutz? Why do you feel bad for him?”  
“I’ve never seen a guy so deep in the closet before. Must be real torture in that locker room.”  
“I think the mushrooms gave you ideas, Brucie is straight.”  
A dirty grin made its way onto Trevor’s face. “When he enters the room, I hear the village people sing YMCA.”  
Michael shook his head. “That’s crazy.”  
“You say that, but I’m pretty damn sure he wants something of this”, as he said that he gestured to his crotch. “I might let him”, he added, his voice lower. Almost teasing.   
“You lost your damn mind. What, are you gay now?”  
“I’m not gay, but I’m not particularly straight either.”  
Michael paused. Rendering the information in his head. It’s not like it was a big surprise, he had suspected it. But hearing it out loud made it weird.   
“Oh… Okay. Just. Just don’t take any guy in our room, alright? I don’t want to hear _man moans_ when I’m sleeping.”  
Trevor grinned. “Scared it might get you ideas?”  
“No! Scared I might puke”, Michael quipped back.   
“Your loss”, Trevor said, shrugging.   
Michael emptied his beer and asked Trevor for another. It came flying and Michael caught it. The flame of the fire was getting smaller. On the horizon the first shy rays of sunshine could be seen pushing through. A few seagulls cried in the distance.   
“Hey T, while we have this beautiful fucking moment of opening up to each other I want to ask you something…”  
“Alright, Last question of this night, sugar-tits. After this we go back to the dorm.”  
Michael nodded. “Alright. I asked you before, but yeah, circumstances were different… I wanted to know why you had to go to prison.”  
“Ohhh. That.”  
“Yeah.”  
Leaning back on his hands, Trevor looked up into the sky. “Well… There was this guy. He was my Mom’s boyfriend. I hated his guts. Took money from my mom. Beat me. Shit like that…”  
“And what happened?”  
“I tried to kill him.”  
“What?! Seriously?”  
“Yup.” He pointed at his scarred eyebrow. “This? Got that from him. We got into a fight. He pulled a knife on me. I was able to take it away from him. And then I stabbed him.”  
“Holy shit. How old were you?”  
“17. But I was convicted when I turned 18. Because he wasn’t super fucking innocent himself my sentence was reduced from five years to one. Guess I got lucky.”  
“If you can call that luck.”  
“I sure do. C’mon let’s go back and get some sleep.”  
“Alright.”  
They both stood up and strolled away while the sun started to rise.   
…  
…….  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made an illustration for this chapter, check it out on:  
> https://eliotsartdump.tumblr.com/


	9. Mr. Rascalov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T takes M along for the job. Mr. Rascalov is a bitch.

**Chapter 9: Mr. Rascalov**

 

Michael was on his way to another class when he walked past the reception. The lady working it stood up, waving at him.  
“Mr. Townley, I have another letter from your parents for you.”  
“Oh…Okay.”  
The secretary handed him an envelope and sat back down in her chair, continuing tipping something into the computer.   
“Thanks”, Michael muttered and walked away. He opened the letter, not minding that he was bumping into people along the way. There was nothing in there but a pair of keys and a small note. Michael took out the keys and starred at them, not too sure what to think of this. Sighing, he then put them in his pocket and took the note. 

_“Here is your new address:  
42 Verspucci Street, Apartment 12b  
Down in the Verspucci Canals  
\- Love Mom & Dad”_

Michael scoffed and shoved the note into his other pocket.   
…  
……  
…  
He came back from a late training session with the team, freshly showered and hair still wet.   
Trevor was lying on his bed, legs leaned up against the wall and his head hanging off the edge, staring up at the ceiling. Considering the color of his face he must have been in this position for quite a while.   
“Hey T.”  
“How’s it hanging, sugar-tits?”  
“Not that great to be honest.”  
“As always.”  
“Screw you.” Michael threw his bag on his bed and sat down. Rubbing his hands together he studied Trevor.   
Trevor grinned, it looked weird upside down. “I know, I’m beautiful and all, but do you really need to stare at me like this?”  
Michael shook his head, he could feel a migraine coming up. “Haha, very funny wise guy, I actually need to talk to you.”  
Trevor laughed softly. “Well, go on then.”  
“I was thinking about that offer you made me a while ago… You know about me getting a job… with you guys.”  
That peaked Trevor’s interest. It even made him sit up straight, his red face slowly paling back to it’s normal shade. He had that sharkish grin going on and Michael already regretted his decision.   
“Well, well, well, look who is coming around!”  
Michael stared him dead in the eye. “I have not made any decision! But, I might want to come along next time. To see how it is, you know.”  
“Of course, porkchop! I’d love to take you under my wing!”, Trevor said before starting to fake cry like a British lady. “I am”, he sobbed, “just so proud of you…!”  
“Goddamn, you are such a dickhead. Can we do this without you being… _you_?”, Michael sighed.  
Trevor shook his head and grinned wide at him. “Sorry. This is the only edition of Trevor that’s available.”  
“I was afraid you were going to say that…”   
“What made you change your mind anyway?”, he asked.   
Michael shrugged, looking down at his hands. “I dunno. I need money. I somehow can’t get an honest job. And the thought of that empty apartment that is waiting for me kind of scares the shit out of me.”  
“Sounds like the perfect situation to start dealing”, Trevor considered, giving Michael a thumbs up.  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just don’t… Don’t call it that, okay…? So, can you take me along tonight or…?”  
“Under the week? Are you insane? We can’t have you sell shit on campus, you’re the goddamn quarterback, people will recognize you. No, no, no, you are coming with me this weekend. That’s when I sell on the streets.”  
Michael nodded. “Alright. Is it going to be safe…?”  
“As safe as it can be with ol’ T over here”, Trevor answered.   
“Oh no.”  
…  
……  
…  
“Are we ready, big boy?”  
It was a late Saturday afternoon. Michael tied his left shoe and stood up. He tried to act cool but his nervous expression betrayed him. Trevor smiled at him. He was wearing his leather jacket. His hands were comfortably rested in its pockets while he looked Michael up and down. “You okay, sugar-tits?”  
Michael shifted from one foot to another, nodding. His hands tingled.   
“No reason to be anxious. If anything goes wrong…” He opened his Jacket and showed Michael the gun sticking out of Trevor’s pants. He had shoved it down his crotch like the gangsters in Michaels favourite movies did. But it didn’t reassure Michael. Not at all. He swallowed and clenched his damp hands.   
“I fucking knew you still had that thing somewhere in here.”, he hissed more to himself than to Trevor. Trevor just shrugged and smiled. “Hey, it keeps me safe. You too.”  
“Fuck I don’t even want to argue about it, just… Man, just make sure you don’t have to use it, okay?”, Michael asked, a defeated tone in his voice.   
“I’ll try my best.”

They took Michaels motorcycle to get into town. Michael was driving while Trevor sat behind him, arms slung around Michaels waist. Trevor shouted directions at him, leading him to the outer part of the city. It made Michael chuckle. _Déjà- vu_. At least this time he actually wanted to be in this situation. More or less.   
They arrived in La Mesa. Trevor guided him to an almost empty parking house where they got off the bike. Trevor was already strolling ahead, giving Michael instructions while walking.   
“Okay now. First, we do a few neighbourhoods in this area. After this we move over to Davis and then we go to Chamberlain Hills. Easy enough?”  
“Yes. So far.”  
“Good. You don’t have to do anything, alright? You just gonna stand by and watch what I do. Try to look big and intimidating.”  
“I am big and intimidating”, Michael argued.   
Trevor halted, turned around and looked at Michael with a cocked eyebrow. “Eh.”  
Almost instinctively Michael puffed out his chest and held his head higher. “Eh? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”   
Trevor started laughing and fondly patted Michaels shoulder. “No offense but that parading ape look isn’t what I call intimidating. But whatever floats your boat, babe.”  
Trevor walked on while Michael grumbled some insults before catching up with him.  
Their first customers were some guys their age. Pretty normal looking actually. Michael had expected worse. They bought a few bottles of Adderall and some cocaine and left. He did as he was instructed, waiting a few feet behind Trevor with crossed arms to watch him do his work. After they served a few customers they went on to the next neighbourhood. Now, there were the guys he had expected to buy drugs from college kids. Most of the people in that area looked like the definition of drug addicts. Shabby, ill-fitting clothes, bad skin, weird and jittery mannerisms and eyes as black as the night itself. When these guys came around, Michael was on extra high alert, watching them like a hawk preying on a mouse. Trevor was so unbelievably close to them, it made Michael uneasy. The way these people moved, those quick and erratic movements, if one of these guys decided to pull a knife on Trevor, that would be it. End of the damn line. And yet Trevor was so fucking calm. As if he was serving food at a nursery home. Well, frankly, Trevor was quite the unpredictable individual himself. But still…It almost was admirable. In a really strange kind of way.   
They finished in La Mesa and drove over to Davis.   
It was the same there. Turns out the customers didn’t really differ, no matter which part of the city you were in. Only difference was in some they were poor and in some they were rich. Michael was amazed how many average-joe’s bought drugs. People you’d never think off. It made him relax a little.   
It was after 10pm when they arrived in Chamberlain Hills.   
They parked in an empty alleyway where the street lights couldn’t reach. Trevor hopped off the bike. “You’re doing better than I thought you would, Mikey. I might let you talk to the next customer yourself”  
Michael took of his helmet and fixed his flattened hair. “Nah T. I rather watch and learn for now.”  
“Suit yourse-“  
“HEY, PHILIPS!”  
Michael and Trevor froze. They saw the shadow of three guys at the end of the alley. Michael leaned over to Trevor and whispered: “Friends of yours…?”   
He could hear Trevor chuckle. “Sure.”  
As the three strangers came closer Michael was able to actually see their features. His eyes immediately wandered to their torn-up jackets. And the biker patches on it. The Lost and Damned. _FUCK._  
Trevor didn’t seem to be bothered by the three bikers, he opened his arms wide, a big smile on his face. “If it isn’t my good ol’ buddy Billy Grey! How the fuck are you?!”  
“I told you before, you piece of shit. This is the Lost’s territory.”  
“And I told you before; I don’t give a flying fuck.”  
There were still a few feet apart, but these guys were already too close for Michael’s liking. He got off his bike and stood next to Trevor. A strange feeling made his stomach turn. He couldn’t put the finger on what exactly it was but it wasn’t fear. Not entirely.   
The air felt heavy. The men all silently stared each other down. Then it happened.   
One of the bikers pulled out a chain and swung it at Trevor. Michael caught it. Meanwhile the other two pulled out weapons of their own, but Michael couldn’t see what they were. Everything went too fast. He pulled the biker closer by the chain, his fist colliding with the biker’s face. A sickening crack. _Holy shit_ , that sound was horrible. The biker went down and Michael kicked him a few times for good measure.   
Trevor had his hands full with Billy and the other guy. Somehow, he managed to get Billy’s back, his arms closed around Billy’s neck in a choking hold. Michael just stood there for a second, amazed by the sheer savagery and the look of absolute bliss in Trevor’s eyes. The other biker grabbed what looked like a pipe and beat it over Trevor’s back. In that moment Billy was able to escape the choke hold, spin around and punch Trevor in the gut. Trevor folded, but when he looked back up he was grinning like a mad man, teeth stained with blood.   
Michael lost it. Totally lost it. He charged towards Billy and took him down to the ground, wrestling with him for the upper hand.   
The other biker was so surprised to see his leader go down, he forgot about Trevor for a short moment. Immediately Trevor was on him like a rabid dog, knocking him against the brick wall and going to town on him.   
At the same time Billy was on top of Michael, whacking him a few good times before Michael managed to turn them around by pushing his hips up. Now he was dealing out punches, his heart beating a thousand times a second. Blood splatters hit his face. It was exhilarating.  
Michael was about to punch him again. As hard as he could but Billy ducked away and Michael hit the concrete ground. “AW FUCK!”, he yelled out, pain soaring through his hand. He pulled it back, his knuckles bleeding. Billy kicked him off, got unto his feet and stumbled away. Michael watched him flee. His breathing was shallow, his adrenalin still running wild. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around, ready to go again but he relaxed as soon as he recognized that it was Trevor. He let his raised fists sink and slowly got back on to his feet. His legs were shaking a bit, but it was barely noticeable. He looked around. The biker with the chain had escaped as well. But the one Trevor beat up was still there. Unconscious, lying in a puddle of his own blood.   
Michael caught his breath and looked Trevor over. He was bleeding from his mouth and a nasty bruise was forming around his left eye, but all in all he looked fine.   
“You okay, T?”  
Trevor’s grin widened. He pulled Michael in for a tight hug and even lifted him off the ground for a few seconds. Michael just let it happen. He wasn’t even sure what _exactly_ was happening.   
“Never been better, suger-tits!”, he exclaimed happily.   
Trevor let go of him. They looked at each other. “Sooo… I guess we quit early today?”, Michael asked.   
“Yep. We probably look like shit. Especially you.”  
Michael smiled. It hurt. “Fuck you, you look worse.”  
They walked back to Michaels motorcycle and got on. Before Michael revved up the machine he paused.   
“Hey T?”  
“Yep?”  
“Why the fuck didn’t you use that damn gun?!”  
“ _You_ said you didn’t want me to use it, shithead???”  
“You are un-fucking-believable”, Michael sighed.  
Trevor smacked the back of Michaels helmet. “Whatever, c’mon. I know someone who can patch us up for free. Let’s go.”  
…  
……  
…  
Trevor guided them to an old industrial park. They stopped in front of a run-down warehouse. Trevor got off and dragged Michael with him, walking up to the entrance. Five knocks. A few minutes passed. Trevor was getting impatient and so was Michael. Trevor knocked again. Angered shouting from the inside. Michael eyed Trevor form the side. “That can’t be good…”  
“Fuck”, Trevor muttered under his breath. He backed off the door and was about to kick it in, when it swung open and a fat guy pulled them in. “Really bad time Trevor…!”, he whispered. Then he noticed Michael. “Who the fuck is that…?”   
“He’s my roommate. He wants to join. Roman, Michael. Michael, Roman.”  
Loud voices echoed in the back of the hall, arguing in a foreign language. Michael looked at Roman questioningly. “What the hell is going on here?”  
Roman sighed and led them to the living area, where they took a seat on the couch. “Mr. Rascalov is here. And he is not happy.”  
Trevor whistled. “The big boss? What is his problem?”  
“Not so loud!”, Roman hissed. “That greedy son of a bitch wants a bigger cut. As if 50% wasn’t enough already… He is in the back arguing with Niko.”  
They could hear glass shatter. Roman winced. Then he looked at both Michael and Trevor with raised eyebrows. “You guys look like shit! What happened…?”  
“The Lost”, Trevor answered nonchalantly.   
Romans jaw fell open. “Did you sell in Chamberlain Hills again? Niko told you it’s not worth the trouble, you idiot!”  
Trevor crossed his arms defensively. “I’m not going to be pushed around by some bitch-ass crack bikers. I sell where I want to.”  
Roman buried his head in his hands. “Jesus Christ…”  
“Are you just going to sit here and feel sorry for yourself, or are you going to help us out…? My damn face hurts.”  
Roman let out a long sigh before getting up. “You’re right, you’re right, I get the first aid kit.”  
In that moment, the door to Niko’s quarters swung upon and an older man in an ugly beige suit stomped out. Followed by Niko who looked just as pissed off. “You can’t take our cut, Mr. Rascalov, we are the ones who carry the most risk”, Niko halfway shouted at him. Rascalov turned around and slapped Niko across the face. It got really quiet in the room. Rascalov’s voice was hushed but Michael could still make out what he was saying.   
“I brought you and your fat cousin here, illegally I might add, I can easily ship you back to Yugoslavia. War always needs fresh bodies. You want that Niko Bellic?”  
Niko silently looked Rascalov in the eye, not blinking.   
“That’s what I thought. You picked the game. Now you have to play.”  
Rascalov turned around again and stormed off, the door falling shut behind him. There was a long minute of total silence.   
“Wow. What a ray of sunshine.”, Trevor commented.   
Niko sighed and sat next to them, head leaned back, eyes closed. Roman shook his head, went to a counter and rummaged through it, looking for the first aid kit. Niko opened his eyes again and examined Michael. He held out his hand invitingly. “I guess you want to work. I’m Niko.”  
Michael shook Niko’s hand, forgetting that his right was hurt. Slightly flinching he smiled at the other man. “Michael.”  
Niko assessed him then Trevor. “Hurry up Roman, they look like shit. And get them some painkillers.”  
Roman walked up to them, arms full with bandages and stuff.  
“What do you think, I’m doing?”  
Roman gave Trevor a pill and a glass of water. Trevor swallowed the pill and drank half of the glass before looking at Niko. “I guess our pay is going to be cut.”  
Niko was visibly done with this whole day, he just sighed. “I’m afraid, yes. Great time to get in to the business, Michael.”  
Michael scoffed. “Fantastic.”  
…  
……  
…


	10. Cameo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward boners and horny loners.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On that note:  
> I wanted to thank you all who have been reading, commenting, leaving kudos etc.  
> You are a big reason why I keep this schedule of uploading every week!

**Chapter 10: Cameo**

_Red light. Long, dark shadows. She moaned his name, a smile on her ruby lips. Michael pushed in slow first but picked up his speed as they got on. The bed underneath them was soft like silk. It probably was silk. Who cares. It wasn’t like he had time to think about it. He ran his left hand through her long, thick hair. It smelled of strawberries. He was sweating and so was she._  
_Suddenly he was no longer on top of her. The bed was gone too. He stood in a dark room. A warm body pressed behind him. He hummed approvingly. Hands wandered over his body. He leaned against his lover, enjoying the caressing touch. Her hand started to jerk him off and he leaned in even more. He turned his head to see her beautiful face but then- _  
**_“GET THE FUCK OFF ME, TREVOR!” ___**__

_____ _

He woke up in a cold sweat, eyes wide with shock. His shoulder bumped into something, so he spun around. It was one of his teammates. They sat in their team bus. He looked out the side window. The bus was driving through a neighbourhood. In the distance he could see the small stadium of the rivalling football team.  
“You alright there, Townley?”, his teammate asked.  
Michael looked at him, he still wasn’t quite awake. Then he nodded.  
The guy smiled. “Did you have a wet dream?”  
Michaels face became hot. “Wh-what, no! Why?”  
“Dude, you have a semi.”  
Michael looked down and immediately took off his jacket to cover his half-hard dick. _Fucking embarrassing._ “Sorry.”  
The guy just shrugged. “Eh. Happens to the best of us.”  
“Yeah…”, Michael sighed. He then stared out of the window, hoping his semi would be gone by the time they arrived.  
_Now that bastard makes cameos in my sex dreams. Probably because I spent too much time with him lately. Yeah. That must be it. All is well. ___  
…  
The mood in the locker room was a mixture of hopeful optimism and crushing anxiety. Outside on the field they could hear the marching band and the encouraging chants of the cheerleaders.  
Michael was fully dressed in his gear, sitting in a toilet stall, staring at the drug container in his hand. Trevor told him that this stuff would help him better his overall performance. Michael was hesitant. It’s not like he was totally against drugs. Not anymore. He did enjoy a joint every now and then and tried some of the harder stuff too. But that was different. That was just for fun. This on the other hand…  
He heard the muffled voice of the coach.  
“Let’s go, boys! Give ‘em hell! Wait, where the hell is Townley?”  
Michael opened the bottle and swallowed a pill. He hid the container in his hand and stormed out of the bathroom. “I’m here coach!”  
…  
The last three minutes of the game.  
Michael was dirty and his body was tired but his mind was racing. Brucie had the ball. He heard his scream. “MICHAEL GO LONG!!!”  
Michael ran. The ball soared through the air. An opponent was about to take him down but he dodged the attack and kept on running. Then he caught the ball. Further. Only a little further. He closed his eyes, his body on full auto-pilot.  
The horn blared. It was the end of the game. Michael opened his eyes. He was behind the white line. The crowd watching started cheering. His team roared. Michael let himself fall on his knees. He pulled off his helmet and stared up into the spotless sky. I made it… I made it…!  
Suddenly all of his teammates were over him, pulling him back onto his feet, hugging, laughing. “We won! We actually won!!!”  
The coach joined them, grabbing Michael by the neck and pulling him into a hug. “I knew you still had it in you, Townley…!”  
“We should celebrate! Let’s throw a party on the football field tomorrow! Can we coach?”, Brucie asked gleefully.  
The coach smiled and nodded. “You earned it, boys!”  
The whole team started cheering. Michael felt like he was in a trance.  
…  
……  
…  
He had forgotten how great it felt to win. This was just like it was back in high school. He came home from the game. People in the hallway congratulated him. Some even shook his hand. It was amazing and he loved every minute of it. He parted from the rest of his team, exhausted but happy. “Don’t forget the party tomorrow!”, Brucie shouted. Michael gave him a thumbs up.  
This was good.  
He walked into his room and let himself fall on his bed, a big grin plastered on his face.  
Trevor was there too, playing on his Gameboy. He looked up. “How’d it go?”  
Michael closed his eyes and smiled. “Amazing. We crushed it.”  
“Well, congrats sugar-tits.”  
“Thanks. There will be a big party tomorrow evening on the football field. You should come too.”  
“Yeah? Will there be booze?”  
“Brucie is handling it, so yeah. Probably”  
“Well then I guess I’ll show up.”  
“Cool.”  
Michaels stomach grumbled. He forgot he hadn’t eaten since lunch. He looked up. “Wanna go get some tacos? Your skinny ass could use some.”  
“Your fat ass could use less”, Trevor quipped back.  
“C’mon…!”  
“Alright.”  
“You pay?”  
“Is this some stupid ploy to let me pay for your food, chubs?”  
“I won. I deserve it.”  
“Fuck, alright. But next time you’ll get it. It’s not like you make less money than me.”  
“Fuckin-A!”, Michael stood up and opened the door. “Fucking Hurry, I’m starving!”  
…  
……  
…  
The moon shone high over their heads. Steppenwolf’s ‘born to be wild’ was blaring out of the speakers. Around the field lanterns of varying sizes had been placed, illuminating the field in a soft, yellow light. Tables had been propped up where you could get free beer. Michael had to admit, Brucie was good at planning parties, it looked amazing. It seemed like not only the football team but most of the students were here, the huge field looking crowded as hell.  
Michael made his way past drunken people, Trevor following behind him. They reached one of the tables, Michael grabbing two red cups for him and Trevor. Brucie spotted them from a few feet away and waved at them. Trevor hummed the YMCA melody. “Stop it!”, Michael hissed and drove his elbow in Trevor’s side. Trevor chuckled and took a sip of his beer. He made a face before pulling out a flask and adding it to his drink. Only god knew what was in there, Michael thought, rolling his eyes.  
Brucie managed to squeeze passed all the people separating them, slapping Michaels shoulder in a greeting. “Hey there, Michael, nice of you to show up!”  
“Well, we don’t always get to celebrate a win, do we?”, Michael said, smiling.  
“Let’s just hope this isn’t the last time, am I right? I knew it. We are fucking winners!”, Brucie exclaimed happily, a proud smile on his face. Then he noticed Trevor and all of a sudden he got a little more shy. “Hey, T-dog! You showed up too…!”  
Trevor shrugged. The music was loud, so most of the conversation was just shouting. “Wouldn’t have missed it, pork chop.”  
The tune changed from classic rock to electro dance music. Someone grabbed Michael by the arm. He looked down. It was a girl. She smiled up at him. “You’re the quarterback, right? Wanna dance?”, she asked. Michael grinned. This was real nice. He put down his cup before she dragged him further into the field where people started dancing. He looked over his shoulder and saw that Trevor was in a conversation with Brucie. A weird feeling made its way up his gut, but he pushed it down and turned around to look at the girl’s ass while she guided him through the crowd. This was fine.  
They found a relatively free spot and started dancing. Michael put his hand on her waist and she immediately grabbed him by the ass. _Oh. That kind of gal. He smiled._  
…  
“Quite the setup you have here”, Trevor mused, looking at the surroundings.  
Brucie smiled, awkwardly playing with his hands. “Yeah, bro. I used to throw killer parties back in high school. The born party planner, you know.”  
Trevor nodded, smiling. “Sure, big boy.”  
There was a weird silence before Brucie coughed and looked around. “Haven’t seen you much around the last few weeks, bro…”  
Looking up from his drink he eyed Brucie. He had thrown away the red cup and just started drinking right from his flask. The sharp rum left a nice burn in his throat. “Yeah, since Michael joined the business, I am allowed keep our stuff in our room. You know how it is.”  
Brucie nodded absently. “Yeah…”  
Trevor let out a big laugh, before slapping the big guys shoulder. He knew exactly what was up. But he did like to torture his prey. At least a little. “Don’t you say you missed me, Brucie?”  
“No! Well… err yeah. Kind off. You know. How a bro misses his bro.”  
“Say bro one more time and I shove this flask up your ass..”  
“Sorry br-… Dude.”  
Trevor sighed dramatically and put his flask away. “I told you before big man. If you want to spend some quality time you just gotta fucking ask.”  
Flustered, Brucie nodded. “I know. I’m being weird, I just…”  
Trevor leaned in, his body brazing against Brucie’s, smiling like a wolf who has found a lonely little lamb. “Wanna get even weirder…?”  
He could literally see how Brucie held his breath. Trevor chuckled and grabbed him by his hand. “C’mon I’ll show you something. In private…” With that said he dragged Brucie off, whose face was red as a beet by now.  
…  
Not only was she a tremendous dancer, she was straight forward. Rubbing against him in all the right ways. But Michael couldn’t concentrate on her. Not fully. His eyes always wandered back to Trevor and Brucie who were still talking by the table.  
_What the fuck are you doing…? Just let them do whatever they want to do. It’s none of your business!_  
Michael focused back on the girl, her ass grinding against his groin and, oh boy did it feel good. She glanced at him, smiling. Then she turned around and pulled him down for a kiss. She was a good kisser too. The perfect girl. When they parted Michael looked up again, looking for Trevor and Brucie. They still were there. But now Trevor was leaning against Brucie, both of them ridiculously close together.  
_Stop watching for fucks sake!_  
Michael breathed in through his nose before leaning down and kissing the girl again. It was a sloppy and wild kiss. She closed her eyes, her body pressing against his. While they kissed he peered over to Trevor. He was holding Brucie by the wrist and pulled him slowly away.  
Between kisses he could hear the girls voice. “Wanna go somewhere quiet…?”  
…  
Trevor led Brucie to the bleachers. The big guy was stumbling after Trevor like an idiot, but he didn’t put up any resistance. Good. The laughter of the people drowned in the music and the farther they got the less they could hear from all the commotion.  
They reached the bleachers where Trevor first looked around before grabbing Brucie by his shirt and pushing him against one of the big cement poles. Brucie let out a small yelp as he connected with it, Trevor wasn’t too gentle. “Y-you sure no one will see us he-”  
Trevor shut him up with a rough kiss and Brucie, although first stiff and kind of awkward, gave in, his body relaxing. They parted and Brucie had to catch his breath first. “Holy shit, bro.”  
“Not really the time to bring up the term ‘bro’, my simple-minded friend”, Trevor noted before pulling him in for another kiss. He was hungry. Trevor was so caught up in work for the past months he never got to go on one-night stands. And a sloppy blowjob in an alley way from some hooker did definitely not count. Trevor didn’t like to pay for these kinds of services.  
His hands were quick, wandering from Brucie’s chest down to his groin, grabbing him through his jeans. He could feel it hardening beneath his fingers.  
“Someone’s eager, huh…?”, Trevor chuckled softly. Brucie moaned, his head leaning against the pole, eyes closed, cheeks flushed.  
“Let’s just hope all that bull shark testosterone hasn’t shrivelled up your balls.”  
Brucie’s head snapped back, eyes gleaming. “Hey now, that’s-”  
Before he could say more Trevor was down on his knees, working on Brucie’s belt. He smiled cheekily up at him. “Guess we’ll have to find out…”  
…  
The left side of Michaels face hurt.  
That slap was a total overreaction on her part. Still. A stupid decision. Stupid, stupid, stupid… But he just couldn’t let it go.  
_I just don’t want him to fuck my teammates. That’s all. If it had been a stranger I would’ve been fine. And could bang that chick. But no. Trevor has to go after one of my guys. Nah._  
He stomped of in the direction that Trevor and Brucie took. He had hooked up enough times on the field to know where the best spots were. And the bleachers were to closest ones. So he steered right for that. He still had that horrible feeling in his gut he just couldn’t shake.  
As he got closer he could hear voices. Trevor’s voice he could recognize immediately. He picked up his speed and walked around the corner. For a moment he just stood there, his brain processing what he saw before him. Brucie standing there, half hard and Trevor kneeling in front of him  
“Oh hell no.”  
His body reacted before his mind did. He stomped towards them, grabbed Trevor by the collar of his leather jacket and pulled him to his feet. Brucie broke out into a flustered panic, trying to buckle his belt with shaking hands. “Mikey! Err, it’s not what it looks like…!”, he stammered.  
“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know, don’t worry I won’t tell anyone. Just don’t do it with him”, he said while dragging Trevor along with him, the other fighting against his grip. They made it for a few feet before Trevor slipped out of his jacket and spun Michael around, a furious look on his face.  
“What the fuck?! You just ruined a perfect hook-up opportunity…!”, Trevor sneered.  
“Fuck you, I don’t want you fucking my damn teammates!”  
Trevor pushed Michael. Michael didn’t fall, but he did stumble. He pushed the other as well, only with more force. Trevor fell on his ass, huffing and sneering like an angry cat. “Why do you care?!”  
Michael threw Trevor’s jacket at his face. “I just fucking do. Okay? Now stop acting like a kid having a tantrum! I’ll make it up to you!”  
Infuriated, Trevor threw his arms up in the air. “How?!! Are you going to fuck me, or what?”  
“ **NO!** But we’ll find a way. I can pay for a dude whore or whatever. Fuck… Let’s just go to a strip club, alright? It will be on me.”  
Trevor slowly got up to his feet, pouting, then he wiped the dirt of his pants. He still was angry, but he seemed to have calmed down. “You are such a selfish asshole…”  
Michael rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. C’mon let’s get out of here and get wasted at the next strip-club.”  
“Fine!”, Trevor puffed out, his arms crossed.  
…  
……  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little teaser for the chapter next week:  
> It's gonna be gay.


	11. you want me to stay, sugar-tits?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Messy handjobs, denial and the beginning of a really stupid plan

**Chapter 11: You want me to stay, sugar-tits?**

 

“Open the fucking door.”  
“What the hell do you think I’m trying to do?”  
Michael stood in front of their door, desperately trying to fit the key inside the keyhole. Turned out it was pretty hard to do when you were drunk and saw everything double. Not only that but a living corpse was holding onto him as well. Trevor didn’t bother to carry his own weight he just hung off Michael, a crooked, drunken smile on his face as he tried to hold his head up straight.   
Until Michael finally managed to open the door he had left some pretty deep key marks in the wood of the door. He did not notice. That was future Michaels problem.   
They stumbled into their room. Michael tried to guide Trevor to his bed but instead he tripped and they fell to the floor. Soft curses escaped Michaels mouth.   
“Fuckin A…”  
Somehow, he had landed on Trevor. The latter was wheezing underneath him. “Holy shit, how fucking heavy are you? Geez!” He weakly tried to push Michael off of him but it was no use. Sighing, Michael scrambled to his feet. He looked like a bug on its back.   
Unsteady, he made two steps before falling into his soft bed. He hummed and took a deep breath. “Now, that’s better.”  
Trevor stayed on the floor, limbs sprawled out. He stared up at the ceiling. “That stripper lady was real nice…”, he slurred.   
Michael chuckled. “Yeah ‘she’ sounded like Hulk Hogan and had a huge Adam’s apple.”  
“Don’t be an asshole, I thought she was fucking beautiful.”  
“Alright, alright, sorry.”   
“You are just bitter because your stripper wouldn’t give you a BJ”, Trevor added.   
“Fuck you…” Michael murmured. He glanced down at Trevor. “Did yours go down on you?”  
A big flashy grin made its way on to Trevor’s face. “Who wouldn’t wanna go down on this?”  
“Oh, I know some people…”  
“Shut up, dickhead.”  
Michael started laughing. When it ebbed down he looked out of the window. Behind the buildings of the city he caught a glimpse at the nights sky. He fixated on one particular star, staring at it with fascination. With his fingers he subconsciously drummed a rhythm on his belly. The picture of Trevor almost blowing Brucie crept back in to his head.   
“Hey T…?”  
“Hm…?” Trevor sounded like he almost fell asleep that second.  
“How does this shit between two dudes even work…?”   
As he said that he didn’t look at Trevor. He couldn’t. His cheeks were probably burning red. He rather just looked at that one star.   
“Didn’t you have sex ed, sugar-tits?”, Trevor asked after a long pause, his voice still tired sounding.   
“Dhu, of course, but… They never covered that kind of stuff in it.”  
“The gay stuff?”  
“…Yeah.”  
He could hear Trevor sigh and stir.   
“If we talk full on intercourse between two dudes, one get’s fucked right up the ass.”, he stated bluntly. “Preferably with some lube. And a clean asshole.”  
“Jesus fucking Christ.”, Michael yelled out before covering his face with his hands. Trevor started laughing. “Hey if god wouldn’t want that, then why put the guys g-point up there?”  
Michael lifted his hands up and eyed Trevor with a critical look.   
“Seriously…?”  
Trevor drunkenly smiled at him. “Yeah. Feels great.”  
Michael let his head sink back into the mattress. “Huh. That’s kind of fucked.”  
“Why so curious...?”  
“Dunno. If you do that kind of stuff, I guess I’d like to know how it works.”, Michael said.  
After that, they just laid there in a comfortable silence. Fatigue slowly got hold of Michael. He closed his eyes and listened to his own breathing. Another stir. Trevor was probably crawling in to his own sheets. But then Michaels mattress sunk in under the weight of another person. Michaels heart stood still but he didn’t dare to open his eyes. He just stayed where way he was. Unmoving. The bed was creaking as Trevor shifted next to him. A warm hand was on his belly. He held his breath. As Trevor came in closer he could smell the alcohol on his breath.   
The hair on the back of Michaels neck stood up electrified. Dry lips on his own. He didn’t move. Didn’t budge. It was almost like he was tied to the bed with weights.   
Then he felt tongue. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth a little.   
It was a weird kiss. Kind of unsure and yet kind of amazing. Trevor hadn’t shaved in a while, he could feel his growing beard scraping against his chin. Still he didn’t open his eyes.   
_As long as you don’t look at him this is fine_ , some small voice in the back of his head told him. As if it would make it less real.   
At first he didn’t realize, but the hand on his belly started to wander down south, stopping at his jeans. Skilled fingers opened the button and slowly zipped the zipper open.   
Michael almost jerked up when he felt Trevor’s fingers sneaking underneath the waistband of his boxer shorts. A moan got stuck in Michaels throat as Trevor’s fingers wrapped around his dick.   
His own hands that had been resting folded on his pecs reached up, one grabbing Trevor by his unruly, longish hair the other grabbing the sheets below him. He breathed in shakily. “Fuck…”  
Trevor jerked him off slowly, making every stroke count. It felt like his dick got harder by the second, precum already dripping.   
They kissed again, this time Michael wasn’t as hesitant, actually initiating it. It still felt weird. But not as weird as Michael had thought it would. A girl could do the same thing with him. They parted lips and Trevor leaned his forehead against Michaels. The slow strokes got faster, almost sloppier but it didn’t bother Michael. Not at all. He actually felt how his orgasm came closer.   
Trevor’s body shuffled closer, one leg thrown over Michaels. And then he felt it. He felt Trevor’s erection against his upper thigh.   
Immediately he opened his eyes and looked up at Trevor. Trevor stopped at what he was doing the second they locked eyes.   
They quietly stared at each other, a nauseous pit forming in Michaels stomach. As he looked into Trevor’s dark eyes he thought he caught a shimmer of what he saw back when he first was tripping and looked into those eyes. That faint glimpse of hell itself.   
This was a bad idea.   
His dick was already going soft as he gently pushed Trevor away from him, not uttering a single word. And Trevor seemed to understand. He didn’t say anything, he just got up, licking off whatever Michael had left on his fingers, and walked over to his own bed.   
Michael turned around in his bed, facing the wall and closed his eyes. His heart was still beating fast.   
_This means nothing.  
We’re both drunk.   
It means nothing at all._  
…  
……  
…  
They didn’t talk about what happened last night.  
Before he fell asleep, Michael had brazed himself for awkward silences and averted gazes but…nothing. Trevor acted the way he always did. When Michael woke up Trevor was already awake and fully dressed. He lazily flipped through the pages of a physics book, he looked up form it when he noticed that Michael was up too.   
“Morning”, he said in the most nonchalant voice possible.   
Weary, Michael scratched the back of his head, trying to gather his thoughts. “Morning…”  
Trevor went back to the book in his lap.   
Michael didn’t know what was stranger. What they did last night or what was happening right now. Slowly he got up from his bed and walked to the bathroom. His body was still tense with anticipation as he walked past Trevor.   
_Trevor has to say something, right? That stubborn bastard wouldn’t let something like this just go… Or would he? By the looks of it he totally would._  
Thank god he didn’t. Michael wasn’t ready to deal with the aftermath. If they both chose to just silently forget, then why the hell not?   
Stepping inside the bathroom, Michael was a little shocked at what he saw in the mirror. He looked like he didn’t even sleep at all with the dark circles under his eyes. Then he retched. Oh. Apparently, he was hungover. He reached the toilet just in time before vomiting.   
After there was nothing left in his stomach he laid his head on the cool toilet seat and let out a pained moan. Did he really drink that much last night?  
He heard Trevor’s footsteps approach. A pat on his back. “C’mon get cleaned up. We’re meeting Niko today.”  
“Oh god”, Michael whispered. “I forgot about that… Is it today?”  
“Sure is, chubby.”   
“Okay, okay. Just… Give me a minute”, Michael sighed before wiping his mouth.   
…  
He was still hungover but after a glass of water, an aspirin and half of a pretzel he felt much better. They waited on the campus parking lot for their ride. Packie’s car honked as it drove up to them. The tires squeaked when it halted.   
Jacob was already in there, sitting shotgun. They both greeted them, got in the car and then they all drove off.   
…  
The hideout smelled of freshly brewed coffee and the lingering hint of weed.   
Niko was watching the news while Roman brought Packie and Michael some coffee. Trevor and Jacob were busy putting Niko’s weekly cut of money on the coffee table into neat stacks. Niko had a worried expression on his face as he looked at the money.   
“This is no good…”, he murmured.   
Jacob put the last of the money and looked up. “Wat yu talkin’ about, man? Tis wat we bring yu every time.”  
Niko sighed and leaned back. “I know. I know… Rascalov has been up my ass lately. Seems like this no longer cuts it.”   
Michael put down his mug. “You’re kidding? This is easily ten thousand dollars every damn week.”  
“And that bastard already took more than his usual share”, Trevor added.   
“Don’t worry, we’ll give him part of our share if he wants more. You guys shouldn’t get cut any more. You are the ones out on the street.”  
Roman let out a gasp. “What the hell, cousin, you want to give him part of our share??!”  
Niko shrugged agitated. “What am I supposed to do, you fat fuck? If we don’t deliver, our asses go back to the homeland. And that is if we are lucky.”   
Roman sat down on an armchair, shoulders slouched and a disheartened look on his face.   
“That Russian really got you by the balls, huh Niko?”, Packie asked.   
Niko let out a long sigh followed by a small laugh. “Yeah…”  
Silence.   
“Why don’t you cut yourself lose from that pig?”, Trevor suddenly threw into the room.   
Niko’s head perked up. “What?”  
Trevor ran his hand through his messy hair. “You are the one with the contacts, right? You know the suppliers because you actually meet them. Face to face.”  
“So?”, Niko asked.  
“Sooooo… why don’t you start an operation of your own. Try to embezzle some money. And once you’ve got enough… Get rid of Stalin.”  
“That does sound like a good idea”, Packie weighed in.   
“No it’s doens’t”, Michael said, throwing a scolding look at Trevor. “It’s the easiest way to get us all killed by the Russian mob.”  
Jacob clicked his tongue “Only if tey notice, rasta”  
All of them started debating. Except for Niko. He just sat there and stared at his own hands while worrying his lip.  
“Trevor’s got a point”, he finally said, shutting up everybody else in the process. They all stared at him quietly. He then stood up. “I’ll think about it. And I really need a nap. I see you next week.”  
…  
…….  
…  
Trevor was standing outside the warehouse smoking a cigarette he had snatched from Packie. He blew out a puff of smoke and watched it dance and disappear in the air. The sky above was hung with clouds but it wasn’t raining. Not yet.   
The rusty door creaked as Michael stepped outside and joined him. He nudged Trevor with his shoulder. “Wanna share?”  
Trevor nodded and handed Michael the cigarette. He took a deep drag and gave it back to Trevor. He let out the smoke through his nose and looked up into the sky.   
“How long do you think we can do this?”  
Trevor shrugged. “Until college is done. Maybe after that too. Who knows.”   
Michael nodded. He never really thought about college ending. But they were almost done with the semester. Only a few weeks left. One football game still ahead.   
“You gonna stay in the states after you graduate?”  
Trevor glanced at Michael, a small smile on his lips.   
“You want me to stay, sugar-tits?”   
Before Michael could answer the door burst open and Packie and Jacob waltzed out.   
“C’mon guys, let’s go grab a drink before we go back!”  
Trevor flicked the cigarette to the ground and stepped on it. “Alright.”  
Michael sighed. “I’ll just take a Pepsi…”  
…  
…….  
…


	12. Me? Stressed?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M gets hurt. T is there to support him.

**Chapter 12: Me? Stressed?**

 

The final game of this semester.   
If they would win this one, they could compete for the championship.   
In other circumstances the team would have been nervous. But their winning streak lately made everyone optimistic. Even Michael.   
It was a home game. Their own cheerleaders were hopping over the field, cheering for them, firing up the crowd. Smiling, Michael watched their breasts bounce up and down despite the sports-bras. Most of his teammates started to warm up but he was still sitting on the bench, watching the happenings around them. On the other side of the field he could see the rivalling team do some group exercises. He was anxious to kick their asses.   
He let his gaze glaze over the field until he spotted some familiar guys. Trevor, Packie and Little Jacob were standing at the edge of the bleachers, looking out on to the field. Probably gawking at the cheerleaders too. Michael scoffed. For Trevor to show up to this, was actually a big deal. He remembered the times when Trevor would just roll his eyes as soon as Michael only mentioned the words ‘foot’ and ‘ball’. 

Half an hour later the game started. Their team was on fire, starting off strong.   
After the first quarter Michael shot the quarterback of the other team a smug smile before jogging over to the edge of the field, where the rest of his team had gathered. Coach was there, giving them instructions as how to move on. 

The second quarter was going well for them too. But for Michael it got harder. Suddenly he was the main attraction for the rivalling players, tackling him even if he did not have to ball or would move. Agitated Michael just simply tackled back whenever it happened. He wasn’t going to be pushed around by a bunch of amateur jerks. When the second quarter ended his body was aching more than he’d liked to admit. But point-wise they were still in the lead. He wasn’t worried. 

Now, the third quarter… That was a whole other animal.   
At this point the game got really physical with most of the attacks still concentrated on Michael. And now the other quarterback had it out for him too. It was their teams turn to defend. The quarterback was running towards him with full speed and Michael was ready to block if he had to. Or so he thought.   
The guy pushed easily through the first line of defence and came in full speed. Michael squared his stance and braced himself for impact. But he did not expect this much vicious force. The guy dodged his counter and tackled Michaels shoulder full on.   
Despite all his protective gear, he could hear the sickening pop of his ligaments tearing apart. He was knocked to the ground, his neck snapping back violently as his back connected with the field. Then he was out. 

When he woke up again, the first thing he saw was the concerned, blurry faces of his coach and the college’s medic. His ears were ringing. The medic snapped his fingers in front of Michaels face. The voices got clearer.   
“Townley. Townley! Hey buddy. Can you hear me.”  
Michael nodded slowly. “I’m nauseous…”, he managed to get out.   
“Someone get the boy a damn bucket…!”, his coach yelled.   
The medic took out a small flash light and shone them in to Michaels eyes. He squinted. “Can you sit, Townley?”  
“I think so.”  
With the help of the coach and the medic Michael slowly sat up. Someone put a plastic bucket into his lap. Michael cradled it with jittery hands, a sharp pain jolting through his left shoulder. He winced.   
The medic looked at the coach. “It looks like he got a concussion. Must’ve hit his head on impact.”  
“What the fuck do I wear a fucking helmet for, then?”, Michael groaned.   
“It happens in sports like these”, the medic replied, studying Michaels shoulder. “Can you lift your left arm for me?”  
Michael tried to lift his arm but stopped midway. There was just too much pain.   
“That’s it. We’ll get you to the hospital.”  
“What…?! But the game-”  
“Only one quarter left. We’ll manage without you, Townley”, The coach interrupted.   
“I’m calling an ambulance.”  
“Not needed. We’ll take him”, a third voice chimed in. Michael looked up. Trevor, accompanied by Packie and Jacob pushed other bystanders away so that they could get closer. The coach critically looked the small group up and down. “Friends of yours, Townley?”  
Michael weakly nodded, a tired smile on his face. “Yeah.”  
Trevor was the first who got to him and hauled him back to his feet. “C’mon big chubb.”  
Supporting Michael’s right side, they started walking off the field, Packie and Jacob going ahead to get the car. Sighing, Michael leaned into Trevor. He smelled weed on him. Michael grinned. “You don’t happen to have anything of that left, do you?”  
Trevor chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint but no… But you’ll get lots of morphine as soon as we throw you in to a hospital bed.”   
…  
……  
…  
Michael woke up from his drug infused sleep.   
He was lying in a hospital bed. Luckily, he got a singles room. The curtains held out the bright sunlight from outside. But some light still pooled in from a tiny crack. His neck was stiff as he looked over to the clock on the wall. It was shortly before 6 am.   
A light snore made him freeze. He turned his head slowly. There on a chair next to his bed sat Trevor. His worn-out leather jacket draped over him as he was sleeping.   
_He spent the whole night?_  
Michael tried to think back to what happened after they arrived at the hospital and he got his first shot of painkillers. They brought him to a doctor who took a look at Michaels shoulder and made some tests with him. After that they assigned him to a room. He remembers all his friends staying there with him as long as he was awake. They were playing cards. And then… Michael drifted off.   
Michael was so lost in thought he didn’t notice that Trevor woke up. His voice brought Michael back to this realm.   
“Hey sugar-tits. You okay?”  
Michael nods. “Yeah. Yesterday is kind of a haze. But all in all. I’m good.”   
“Glad to hear that.”  
Silence filled the room. Michael stirred.   
“Packie and Jacob?”, he asked.  
“Went back to the dorm after you fell asleep.”   
“Alright.”   
“Speaking of”, Trevor began, “I gotta get back too. I have a test.”  
Michael sits up, only now realizing that his left arm hangs in a sling. “Uh yeah, sure…! Did they tell you how long I have to be here…?”  
Trevor stood up and put on his Jacket. He ruffled through his hair, but it didn’t change much. “I think you have to stay another night. But after that, you can come back.”  
Michael sighed in relief. “That’s good.”   
Trevor studied Michael quietly.  
“Do you… Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?”  
“Uh. Yeah. That would be nice.”  
“Alright then. See ya.”  
“Yeah.”  
With that said Trevor turner and walked out of the room.   
Michael watched the door fall shut. Then he sank back into his bed. “Might as well get some more sleep”, he mumbled.

Later that day his coach visited. Michael just came back from the cafeteria, more or less forcing the awful food down. When he reached his room, the coach was already in there. Slightly startled Michael halted in the doorway.   
“You feel better, Townley?”  
“Uh yeah.”  
The coach nodded. “Good.”  
Michael walked in warily and sat down on his bed. “Not to be rude, coach but why are you here?”   
“I wanted to check on our quarterback. And I wanted to tell you that we won.”  
“That’s…That’s good…!”   
“Yes. It is. But…”  
Michaels head perked up. “But…?”  
“I talked to your doctor, son.”  
Clenching his fists Michael looked at his coach. “And…?”   
“Looks like you will be out for at least three months.”  
Michael could literally see how his recent streak of luck crumbled away under him. “So… What you are trying to say is… If I’m going to miss the next three months I shouldn’t even bother to come back at all…”  
“It might seem harsh. But you have to think about your health too. Weston will take over for you.”  
Michaels stomach turned. Of fucking course. Of all the guys, it had to be Devin motherfucking Weston.   
“I see…”  
“Don’t take it too bad, you did well. But we do take injuries seriously. Especially when it comes to concussions after all this new research came out recently.”   
Michael nodded. “I understand.”  
“The team wishes you a quick recovery. Have a nice day, Townley.”  
“Yeah… You too.”  
…  
……  
…  
Trevor’s head peaked into the room.   
“Have you packed everything sweetie…?”, he asked, batting his eyelashes like a midwestern housewife.   
Michael sighed and rolled his eyes. He was fully dressed and put the rest of his stuff into his duffel bag. “Very funny, smart guy. C’mon let’s get out of here.”  
Trevor opened the door and held it open for Michael. “Ready when you are.”  
Michael grabbed his bag with his good arm and threw it over his shoulder. “Thanks. Hey, before we go back, let’s go and get some proper food first. I’m starving.”  
“American, Italian or Asian, your highness?”, Trevor asked in a sarcastic tone.   
“Chinese.”  
“Asian it is.”

They strolled through the streets of Los Santos, on the look-out for a good Chinese restaurant. It was a typically warm and humid day and both of them were sweating. After half an hour Trevor spotted a good looking joint. He pointed to it. “There?”  
Michael nodded. “Looks good.” 

The amount of food on their table was ridiculous. Chicken, pork, duck, rice, noodles and spring rolls covering almost all of the platform. What was even more ridiculous was that 80% of it was Michaels.   
Michael was shovelling some fried rice and orange chicken into his mouth while Trevor sipped on a bowl of soup. He watched Michaels eating frenzy with raised eyebrows.   
“Damn, easy there, fatty… What is wrong with you…?”  
Michael just swallowed a bunch of spring rolls. Trevor wasn’t quite sure if he even had time to breathe in between bites. Confused Michael took a piece of pork with his chopsticks. “What do you mean…?”  
“I mean, I’ve seen you eat before and all but this is excessive. Even for you.”   
Michael flipped him off. “Fuck you. And I am not that fat. Stop saying that.”   
Trevor grinned. “I’ll stop when you lose some weight. Seriously though. If I didn’t know better I’d say you are stress eating.”  
“Me? Stressed? I would never”, Michael quipped, words dripping in sarcasm as he put the piece of pork into his mouth. He chewed with a sour look on his face.   
“Holy shit, this is pathetic.”  
Michael pulled a face and swallowed. “And I repeat; fuck you. I got some bad news, okay?”   
Trevor gasped in fake shock. “Bad news?”  
Instead of throwing another insult at Trevor he simply looked down into his bowl of rice and pushed it around with his chopsticks. “I won’t be playing football anymore. At least not this year.”  
“Probably for the best.”  
Michael looked up. “What?”  
“C’mon the injury rate his so high, it’s laughable. And it’s not like you were that good that you could’ve gone pro.”  
Ouch. That hurt.   
Michael wanted to be angry. But he had to admit it. Trevor was right.   
“Fuck… Yeah… I guess I’m not.”  
“More time to concentrate on the important things in life now!”  
“Education?”  
“Drugs and money.”  
Michael just chuckled and reached for the bowl of fried noodles. “And hookers”, he added.  
“Yeah, that too.”  
…  
……  
…  
Considering that it was a nice day and they had nothing else to do, they decided to walk back to campus. Michael overate anyway and it did him good to walk it off.   
As they were walking through town Michael started thinking. Only two days of this semester were left and he had no plans for the break (other than sulking in his new, empty apartment).   
Gently, he nudged Trevor’s side.   
“Hey T.”  
“Yeah?”  
“What are you up to during the semester break?”  
Trevor hummed a low tone then shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably staying on campus and working some more. Attend a party or two…”  
Michael couldn’t believe what he was about to ask.   
“I was thinking… I have this apartment I’ve never been to. My Girlfriend is still in France and I can’t play football. Maybe you and I could hang out?”  
Amused, Trevor lifted and eyebrow. “We hang out all the time, why do you even have to ask?”  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. But like… Do you want to stay at my place? Now that I have the money we could get a whole entertainment set up. TV, Nintendo, Movies… All that.”  
“Do you even have any furniture?”  
“We’ll get to that.”  
Trevor grinned and patted Michaels good shoulder. “Yeah! Sure, why the fuck not! Let’s stay at your place.”  
“Cool.”  
…  
……  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, I know, but I wanted to end it in an organic way and not stretch it out nedlessly.   
> Also:: I'll work the day shift for the next 3 weeks, which means uploads will still be on thursdays, but later in the day.


	13. the Ikea chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M and T go to Ikea because these horrible bastards need a break from all the drama. Also M questions his sexuality.
> 
> Also, also: Brad makes a cameo. Kinda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just domestic indulgence on my part. Sorry, but shit teens give me life.

**Chapter 13: The Ikea chapter**

 

Trevor whistled  
“Wow. You really do have nothing.”  
“Fucking hell…”  
They stood in Michaels new apartment. When Michaels parents disowned him, he’d thought they’d love him still enough to get him a nice place. But this…?  
It was a tiny one room apartment, the kitchen taking up the corner of the living room. The floor was an ugly greenish carpet with stains here and there. Trevor walked around the small space and looked out the dirty window. A crack ran up it. “Haven’t you been here before…?”, he asked.  
Michael sighed. “No…”  
“They really spared no expense, huh?”, Trevor said jokingly. Michael flipped him off and walked over to the bathroom. He switched on the light and regretted it immediately. The bathroom was ridiculously small and silverfish scattered as the light came on. Michael felt really itchy now for some reason.  
A sudden thud made him shriek. Furious, he glared at Trevor. “What the fuck T?!”  
Trevor stood there, only one shoe on. He pointed to a stain on the wall next to Michael’s head. “There was a cockroach.”  
Shuddering with disgust Michael turned and looked at the mushed in pieces of what was left of the cockroach. He bent down and picked up Trevor’s shoe where the other pieces of the bug stuck. He threw it back at him and sat down on to floor. “I can’t fucking believe this. I knew I had my problems with my parents, but c’mon! They couldn’t do better…?!”  
Trevor shrugged, put his shoe back on and wiped the smashed bug on the carpet. “I don’t get your problem. It’s kind of nice. And you didn’t have to pay for it. The place I grew up in looked far worse.”  
Michael paused and then looked up. “Where the fuck did you grew up in?”  
“Hey now, don’t get all judgmental. Not everyone is born with a fucking silver spoon in their mouth, you entitled sack of shit.”  
“Alright, yeah. Sorry.”  
Trevor made a theatrical little bow. “Apology accepted. Now c’mon. Let’s go to Ikea.”  
…  
……  
…  
Michael pulled out one of the carts but before he could enter the store Trevor made a leap and jumped in. Michael stopped.  
“Seriously? I’m not going to drive you through Ikea like a toddler.”  
Amused, Trevor looked over his shoulder and winked at Michael. “If you don’t I will throw a tantrum like one.”  
They stared daggers at each other.  
“You wouldn’t dare.”  
A big grin appeared on Trevor’s face. “Are you sure…?”  
Another quiet moment. Then Michael started pushing the cart with his good arm. At least that lanky son of a bitch wasn’t that heavy. “I fucking hate you”, he muttered under his breath.  
“I’m your best friend and you love it”, Trevor stated proudly followed by laughter that made everybody else in their proximity turn their heads before looking away in second-hand embarrassment, practically fleeing the scene.  
Grumbling, Michael grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil that were distributed on every Ikea entrance and put them into Trevor’s hand. “If I see something I want, you write the number and all that shit down. At least you’ll be a bit useful.”  
“And here I was, thinking that you would appreciate my sense of interior décor.”  
“You crack me up, wise guy”, Michael sarcastically stated before entering.

Trevor’s long limbs dangled off the cart as they walked through the store, stopping here and there so Michael could take a good look at things. He pulled up the price tag for a chair.  
“Hey T, write this down: Norraryd, Number 75332-1. I need two of those.”  
“On it!”, Trevor answered before writing it down on the little sheet with messy handwriting. 

They walked passed a shelf full of plush animals and the moment Michael didn’t pay any attention Trevor grabbed a huge shark and hugged it close to him. As soon as Michael noticed the big blue thing covering most of Trevor he stopped again. “Really T?”  
Faking a pout Trevor looked up and Michael. “What? I’m lonely sometimes. I’ll call him Brad.”  
Knowing that this wouldn’t go anywhere, because obviously Trevor already made up his mind, Michael just sighed and pushed the cart on. “But you pay for that with your own money.”  
“That _thing’s_ name is Brad.”  
“…”

Even though space in the cart was getting sparse, Trevor refused to walk on his own. Now he was covered in a bunch of dishes, towels and other things for the apartment. And Brad, of course.  
They pulled up to the restaurant part of the Ikea and Trevor’s legs started kicking giddily. “Can we go grab something to eat?”  
“Yeah. I’m hungry too. C’mon let’s go.”  
“Can you drive me to the counter?”  
“Get out of there, T.”  
“Fine!”, Trevor sighed dramatically.  
With Brad in his arm he climbed out of the cart and almost broke a bunch of the dishes in the process. As soon as he was standing on his own two feet he put Brad back in and batted the stuffed shark’s head.  
Michael rolled his eyes. “You are unbelievable sometimes.”  
Trevor shrugged. “I am an affectionate person, you know.” 

There were a lot of people at the restaurant and it felt like an eternity as they waited in line. Trevor was studying the menu when suddenly two kids cut the line right in front of him. Michael saw it and nudged Trevor’s side.  
“What is it?”  
Michael pointed to the two kids.  
Realization hit Trevor and that angry spark in his eye lit up. He tapped the taller boy on the shoulder.  
“We were here first, kid! Get to the back of the line.”  
The boy turned around, crossed his arms in front of his chest and stuck up his chin. “Nuh-uh. We were here first, you punk-ass bitch. You get to the back of the line.”  
Baffled, Trevor stared down at the boy. “What did you just call me?”  
“You heard me, Nigga.”  
Michael had to hold down a laugh.  
“We was here first”, the kid continued, the bright, brown eyes glaring back at Trevor without a shred of fear.  
With gritted teeth Trevor squatted down to get to the same eye level as the kid. “Are you calling me a liar, you little shit?”, he hissed.  
The boy put his hands on his hip. “I ain’t calling you a truther.”  
“That is not even a word, Lamar”, the other boy said, now turning around to face Trevor as well. Lamar pulled his friend in closer. “Don’t embarrass me, dog.”  
The other kid smiled cockily. “You do that on your own.”  
Michael could see how Trevor was losing his patience. He put his hand on his shoulder to calm him down but the other didn’t seem to notice. Instead he grabbed the kid named Lamar by the collar of his way too big shirt.  
“Now listen to me you snotty- OW!”  
The other boy kicked Trevor in the shin and pulled his friend out of Trevor’s grip. “Don’t you touch my homie, you lanky weirdo!”  
Trevor was about to lose his shit but Michael grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back, laughing his ass off.  
“C’mon T, it’s just two kids. And you got to admit, they have some balls to stand up to you like that.”  
Trevor looked furious but his face did go from an angry red to a more normal shade. Michael patted his shoulder and nodded at the two boys. “You two go ahead. It’s your turn.”  
The two boys turned around and saw that the cashier was waving them in. Lamar didn’t waste a second and went up to the counter. The other kid looked back at Michael and grinned before joining his friend.  
Michael smiled at the boy. He could hear Trevor mutter: “They did cut the line.”  
“It’s fine T. C’mon were up next.”

Trevor was still moody during their meal, glancing every now and then at the table with the two boys and what looked like both of their moms. After Michael and Trevor finished eating they got up to bring the dirty dishes to the dispensary. As they were about to leave the two boys and their mother walked passed them. A devilish grin spread on Trevor’s face as he put out his foot and tripped the tall boy, Lamar. Before Lamar knew what was happening and could throw an angry fit his mom had grabbed him by the hand and dragged him along, obviously in a hurry. Trevor looked back at the kid and mockingly held out his tongue. Lamar flipped him off and soon he vanished behind a wall of people. Michael chuckled and dragged Trevor to their cart.  
“You couldn’t let it go, huh?”  
“I’m not going to let a child win.”

Michael paid for all the furniture. He smiled at the pretty cashier.  
“So, when will the furniture be delivered?”  
She looked up from her computer and pointed to a laminated document. “It will take five days, Sir.”  
“It will take that long?! Where am I supposed to sleep?”  
The girl shrugged. “I’m sorry, Sir. You should have rented a van to get your furniture yourself if you needed it that badly.”  
“Naww c’mon is there no way for it to go”, Michael pulled a twenty out of his pocket and put it on the counter “,faster?”  
She looked at the bill, a coy smile on her face. Then she slid it back to him. “No.”  
Stuffing the receipt and his twenty back into his pocket he stomped over to Trevor.  
Trevor was waiting a few feet away, holding Brad under one arm while sipping on a can of coke.  
“I can’t believe it. They won’t deliver the bed and everything else until Friday…”  
Trevor shrugged. “Well at least we already got the dishes and stuff.”  
Frustrated Michael combed through his short hair. “Where are we supposed to sleep until then, huh?”  
Thinking, Trevor emptied the can and crushed it in his hand. “Isn’t there an outdoor centre in this area?”  
…  
……  
…  
Somehow, Michael managed to open the door to the apartment without the use of his hands, pushing his way in, ass first.  
Both him and Trevor were carrying a bunch of bags while Trevor’s hands were mostly full with Brad.  
Michael put the bag he was carrying down and stretched his back, groaning loudly. It was getting dark out, so he put on the light switch. He looked over to Trevor.  
“Hey T, can you get the sleeping situation settled? My shoulder hurts.”  
Trevor was about to give a snarky remark back but instead of doing that he nodded. “Sure.”  
Relieved, Michael sighed and walked over to the dial phone that was hooked to the wall. “How about I order some pizza for later…?”  
Trevor nodded, pulling out self-inflatable air mattresses out of a plastic bag. “Sure. I’ll have a diavolo.”  
“Alright.”

It was completely dark out when the pizza arrived.  
Michael met the delivery guy down at the entrance of the stairwell, and handed him the money with a generous tip. The delivery guy made a face when he took the money and Michael lowered his gaze. He probably smelled the weed he and Trevor had been smoking a minute ago. Whupps.  
Balancing the two pizzas on one hand he walked the stairs up to the apartment and knocked with his knee at his door.  
Trevor opened it for him and took the pizzas, putting them on the small counter in the kitchen.  
Michael had insisted on buying a small TV and a video recorder set before they went to get some furniture. Now the TV plus accessories were plugged in and some old movie black and white horror movie about giant ants was playing.  
On the opposite wall was their ‘nest’ as Trevor decided to call it, consisting out of air mattresses, pillows, blankets and Brad.  
Michael looked around for a chair, realizing that those too, wouldn’t arrive until Friday. He shrugged. “The carpet is fucked anyway, let’s just eat on the floor and watch the movie.”  
Trevor took his Pizza and walked to their sleeping corner. “Fine by me, I’m not the fancy type anyway.”  
Michael gasped in fake shock. “No!”  
Instead of answering Trevor just smiled and sat down, opening the box and ogling its treasured content. But before diving in he locked up at Michael. “How much do I owe you?”  
Michael dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “Forget it. It’s on me.”  
Grinning, Trevor took a piece. “Alright then! Thanks!”  
Michael got comfortable next to Trevor, taking a piece of his pizza, cheesy strings dragging from it. Already immersed in the movie he started chomping down on the slice.  
On the screen one of the radioactive ants was attacking a woman and two police officers. Trevor burst out in laughter. “You gotta be kidding me. That thing is obviously fake!”  
Michael punched him lightly on the arm. “Hey, for your information, it got an Oscar nomination for best visual effects back in 1955.”  
Scoffing, Trevor took another slice of pizza. “Well, It is 1991, and it looks ridiculous.”  
“Shut up and watch the damn movie”, Michael chuckled.

Michael didn’t know when exactly he had dozed off but when he woke up the movie was finished and the credits were rolling by on the screen.  
Yawning he laid here, watching the white letters with tired interest. He heard a sleepy groan and something tickled his cheek. He glanced over to where he thought Trevor probably was.  
Trevor was lying right next to him, his head slightly touching Michaels, the unruly hair spread all over. So that was, what had tickled him. Michael couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips.  
_He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping…_  
Immediately fending off that thought Michael closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.  
_Chill Michael, chill. You like tits. Don’t forget that. ___  
He opened his eyes again and examined Trevor’s sleeping form.  
_And even if… You could do way better than Trevor of all people._  
Michael absently reached his hand out and brushed some of Trevor’s hair out of his face. Then Trevor _nuzzled in closer_. Michaels heart started pounding in his chest, eyes wide.  
Holy shit.  
A voice in his mind started speaking up. It sounded an awfully lot like Amanda’s.  
_Not as straight as you thought, huh?_  
…  
_Fuck._


	14. Just watch the stupid movie with the killer worms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M and T do their thing but as usual not everything goes their way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah!!! I can let this trash bags suffer again! Good times.

**Chapter 13: Just watch the stupid movie with the killer worms**

 

Michael and Trevor were standing at a corner near the beach talking to an older guy. The guy pulled out his wallet and handed a short stack of money to Michael. Trevor then discretely put a see-through bag filled with white powder into the guys hand. They guy turned and rushed off, leaving Michael and Trevor chuckling.  
While Michael counted the money, they had gathered today Trevor looked up into the sky. It was soon dusk, the sun slowly edging closer to the horizon, painting the sea in a warm orange.  
“How much did we make?”, he asked, mind elsewhere.  
“About 2300 dollars. Today was a really good day, we could take tomorrow off”, Michael answered, putting the money into his college jacket. Trevor nodded. “Alright.”  
“Let’s go and rent a movie at blockbuster and grab a bite.”  
“Okay. But please no black and white movies, I can’t take it anymore.”, Trevor said, half joking, half serious.  
Michael rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay. Today you decide what we watch. Deal?”  
“Deal.”  
…  
……  
…  
Michael sat comfortably nestled on the couch, a box from the nearby deli in his lap as he watched Trevor put in the video tape. The place looked much nicer since the furniture arrived. They had spent a whole day just putting everything together, but it was worth it. Now they had a couch, a table, and a king-size bed which basically took up half of the apartment. But Michael had insisted on getting one. He did plan on bringing girls here after all. Well… About that he wasn’t so sure anymore.  
After they put the bed together he and Trevor had a big discussion, because at first Michael didn’t want to share the bed. But then he had to admit, that it was kind of shitty to let Trevor sleep on the sofa, considering that it was way too short to fit Trevor without his legs dangling over the edge.  
So, Michael had agreed on sleeping in the same bed with Trevor.  
To say the first night was awkward was an understatement, even though Trevor didn’t seem to be bothered by it.  
Speaking of which, Trevor got the video working and joined Michael on the sofa, pushing Michael gently aside to get a comfortable amount of seating space. Michael scooted over a bit and took a bite from his tandoori chicken. “So, what’s this movie about?”, he asked, chewing.  
“It’s this weird horror movie with that footloose guy. He lives in these hill billy town and some weird earthworms show up and start eating rednecks.”, Trevor explained as the movie started.  
Michael grinned. “That does sound like a Trevor kind of movie.”  
“Yeah well, this one is in actual color and wasn’t made a fucking decade ago.”  
“Alright, alright, let’s just watch.”

Twenty minutes in Michael lost interest in the movie.  
His attention shifted away from the screen to Trevor who seemed to be fully immersed in the movie. A small smile tugged at Michael’s lips. _Funny. Usually it’s the other way around. Goddamn, he is such a weirdo. How could anyone ever sleep with this guy…? Well. I guess he is kind of endearing…_  
Realizing where is mind was taking him, he quickly fixed his eyes back upon the screen, heart beating a bit faster. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit brain. Stop. Just watch the stupid movie with the killer worms.  
He shimmied a few inches farther away from Trevor, the closeness all of a sudden too much to bear. He was going insane ever since that first night, thinking to himself that he never should have invited him in the first place. But here they were. Two guys, one who would probably fuck anything if given the chance and a guy that wasn’t so sure about his heterosexuality anymore. It was just one big cluster fuck of awkwardness, and Trevor didn’t seem too notice. Probably for the best. Or else he would try to make a move on Michael again.  
Michael groaned internally, cursing himself for bringing himself into this whole mess.  
_I can never catch a fucking break, can I…?_

Another twenty minutes and Michael fell asleep, head rested comfortably on Trevor’s shoulder. Trevor didn’t mind, he kept on watching the movie, a cheeky, satisfied grin on his face.  
Then the phone rang.  
Michael woke up, a sleepy expression on his face as he half minded reached for the phone mounted on the wall. But Trevor was faster, taking the receiver and bringing it to his ear.  
“Townley residence, how the fuck may I help you at his ungodly fucking hour”, he said in a sing-song voice, badly mimicking a secretary.  
Michael couldn’t hear the voice of the caller but judging by Trevor’s shifting expression something was wrong.  
“They what? Oh shit.”  
“…”  
“Yeah…Yeah… We’ll come right over… Do you need anything?”  
“…”  
“Yeah. Alright.”  
He hung up the phone and stood up. Worried, Michael looked at him. “What is going on?”  
“That was Packie…They beat the shit out of him, Roman and Niko.”  
“They?”  
“Rascalov and a few of his thugs.”  
Michael was now up as well. “Why the fuck would they do that?”  
“Apparently we didn’t deliver enough money this month. Probably because Niko refused to cut our pay.”  
“Shit.”, Michael muttered.  
Trevor took his jacket that was draped over a chair and slid into it. “C’mon let’s go.”  
Michael nodded, looking for his shoes. Then he remembered something. “Ah wait, let’s take my bike.”  
Trevor paused. “You driving with your bad shoulder?”  
Michael took his keys that were laying on the bedside table and threw them at Trevor. They hit Trevor’s chest and fell right into his hands.  
“You drive.”  
…  
……  
…  
When they arrived at the hide-out the place was in a sorry state.  
TV and several pieces of the furniture was broken. Niko and Packie were sitting the big couch while Roman laid sprawled out on the armchair. All of them were bloodied and bruised, but Roman looked the worst, holding his bleeding hand.  
“Holy fucking shit”, Michael managed to say before rushing over to Roman to go and observe at the damage done. Two of his fingers were broken, but he didn’t seem to be in too much pain. He smiled at Michael with a dull expression on his face. Michael glanced over his shoulder “You guys already took some painkillers?”  
Niko wiped the blood form his bleeding brow. His Face twisted in anger and pain. “Roman did. Me and Packie are fine without em. I wanted us to stay clear headed. Fuck, Rascalov, that motherfucker”  
Trevor just came back from the kitchen and gave Packie a bag of frozen peas to cool his black eye.  
“What the fuck happened?”  
Niko sighed heavily, leaning back, staring up at the dirty ceiling.  
“Rascalov showed up to get his money. I told him we were short a few hundred. He threw a fit. Going on about deporting me and Roman. He left and I thought that was it... But then he came back with a bunch of big guys. They fucking trashed this place. And we have to give him an even bigger cut now…”  
Michael just stared at Niko. “How big?”  
A bitter laugh escaped Niko’s lips. “80%”  
Trevor was practically trembling with anger. “That piece of shit, I’m going to kick his ass, I-”, he pressed out but Niko silenced him with a simple hand gesture. Michael was lowkey impressed by that. Not everyone was able to get Trevor down once he got going.  
“No. We’ll stick to the plan.”  
That made both Michael and Trevor look up. “What Plan…?”, Michael asked.  
“The suggestion Trevor made a few weeks back. I gave it a thought and I started to move things into motion”, Niko answered.  
Trevor let out an unbelieving scoff. “You’re kidding.”  
“No. I already have two suppliers who rather would work with me and only me. No more Russians involved.”  
Packie groaned. “Then why the fuck are we still working for that douchebag?”  
“Because”, Niko began, “We need more than two. We need to get a network together first. Once we gain enough power we can ditch Rascalov.”  
A smile made it’s way on to Trevor’s face. “I can’t believe you already thought this far ahead.”  
Niko took his eyes from the ceiling and looked at Trevor, a dead serious look on his face.  
“I can and will no longer take this shit. We came here on a fucking boat. We dreamed of freedom. But this?”, he gestured at the trashed surroundings. “This is not the American dream.”  
“It sure is not”, Packie commented before letting out a painful wince.  
Meanwhile, Michael was busy wiping off the blood on Romans hands. “Guys I think he needs to go to the hospital. Somebody needs to, uh… You know. Put his fingers back into their intended place.”  
“I want to but it’s not like he is a registered American. He can’t go to the hospital”, Niko said, his already hardened features turning slightly softer.  
They all looked silently at Roman who was so high on painkillers he didn’t register anything that was happening. Packie broke the silence.  
“What about a vet?”  
…  
……  
…  
Packie’s car was pretty crowded with Michael on the front seat and Trevor, Niko and Roman all huddled up together in the back. Roman was blabbing uncoherent on in Serbian. He sat in the middle, mostly sprawled out on Niko who every now and then answered Romans nonsense.  
The radio was blasting some 80s rock as they drove down the lit streets of Los Santos.  
“How did you meet a fucking vet who put People back together, Packie?”, Michael asked.  
“My big brother Gerry. He isn’t what you would call… a law-abiding citizen. And as you all know, you tend to get hurt on the streets. He found this vet guy when he was shot and needed someone that doesn’t ask too many questions.”, Packie said, eyes fixed on the street.  
“I didn’t know you have a brother”  
“I have several. And a Sister.”  
“Huh.”  
…  
……  
…  
The vet’s office was located in the middle of Los Santos in a run-down neighbourhood. Packie parked the car right in front of it and got out.  
Together they hauled Roman’s heavy body out of the car and slowly dragged him to the neon lit entrance. Niko knocked on it furiously. It took a few minutes, no wonder considering that it was around three in the morning. Then the door swung open.  
And older man, probably in his 50s looked them up and down. He looked at Packie.  
“You boys just can’t stay out of trouble, huh?”  
“Hey if we would, who would pay for your rent?”, Packie quipped back. “Can you please fix his hand?”  
The man sighed and stepped aside to let them in. “Bring him to the table.”

Despite all of the painkillers, Roman still screamed like a damsel in distress when the vet violently cracked his fingers back into their place. Niko was there, holding Roman’s other hand the whole time while the rest of the boys sat in the waiting room.  
When all was said and done, Packie paid the vet and they left. 

Back at the hide-out Michael and Trevor helped lay Roman down on the couch.  
All of them were breathing heavily as they watched the passed-out Slav sleep the drugs off.  
“So…”, Packie started, “Where do we go from here…?”  
Niko sighed heavily. “We wait. We gather money. And when the times comes we part ways with Rascalov.”  
All of them nodded.  
“And… I will have to cut your pay until then. I don’t want to anger him anymore”, Niko added.  
Trevor slapped Niko’s shoulder. “No problem. When we get rid of him, we get more money anyway.”  
“Yeah. Thanks for your understanding.”  
…  
……  
…  
The sun was rising when Michael and Trevor got back to Michaels building. They entered the stairwell, both of them looking exhausted. “Now we definitely take today off”, Michael muttered out of breath as they climbed the stairs up to the fourth floor.  
“You fucking right we do. What a night”, Trevor agreed.  
While Michael rested on the third floor to catch his breath a loud banging noise made him startle. Trevor who was about to walk past him didn’t notice so Michael grabbed him and shushed him. Now Trevor heard it to.  
“I think it is on our floor”, Michael whispered to him.  
Trevor looked up the stairs. Then he nodded.  
“Maybe it’s the Russians…?”  
A grin spread on Trevor’s face. “We’re about to find out!”  
Ready to throw hands they walked up the last flight of stairs. But what awaited them weren’t a bunch of big, angry Russian guys. Instead there stood a man in front of their door, banging against it. He looked like your picture book fuck up. Face tattoo’s, scrubby beard, worn-out clothes…  
“C’mon T, let’s get rid of this punk!”, Michael said, marching ahead. But he quickly realized that Trevor was not following him. He looked back. Trevor was standing there like a statue, eyes wide, staring at the stranger. Michael had seen this weird look on his face before… In the early days. When he and Trevor had this big fight that made Trevor flee their dorm room. “T…?”  
The strange man had noticed them now. He gritted his teeth as he stared back at Trevor.  
“Fucking found you, you fairy.  
…  
…….  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested, the refered to movie is called Tremors.


	15. That would be swell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M and T have a fight. Then they do the nasty. Because it was about time.

**Chapter 15: That would be swell**

 

“Fucking found you, you fairy!”  
Before Michael even realized it, the stranger charged towards Trevor, shoving Michael to the side. Trevor didn’t move an inch. He just stood there with wide eyes.  
“You ungrateful son of a bitch!”, the man went on. He grabbed Trevor by the collar of his leather jacket and pressed him against the wall. Even though the man had a skinny, meth-riddled body, he still had the strength to lift Trevor off the ground for a couple of inches.  
“You have no fucking idea what I had to go through to get here! You-”  
Michael barged in and pulled the two apart, now standing between them. He warningly glared at the strange man. “Don’t you dare touch him.”  
The man looked confused at first. Then confusion turned into a disgusted mockery.  
“That your boyfriend, Trevor?”, he said, words dripping like poison.  
Michael didn’t give the boyfriend thing another thought. Instead he just looked at Trevor. “Who the fuck is this clown, T?”  
Trevor seemed to crumble under the pressure of the two men staring at him. Seeing Trevor at a loss of words was a strange experience. He usually was so fast with his remarks.  
The man chuckled. “Never told your bunker buddy about your family, huh?”, he said, an ugly grin spreading on his inked face.  
“You are not family”, Trevor finally managed to press out.  
The man seemed almost hurt by that comment. Almost.  
“I am not family? I knew you since you put on your mothers dresses, you little fag.”  
“Get the fuck out of here”, Trevor insisted.  
“No, no, no Trevor. This won’t be so easy. You still owe me.”  
“I don’t owe you a fucking thing!”, Trevor screamed, his voice breaking a little.  
The man ignored Trevor again and looked at Michael. “Hey, boyfriend. Did he ever tell you that he went to prison?”  
“I’m aware”, Michael said coolly.  
The man grinned. “Oh yeah? Did he also tell you that he stole his mom’s money to get a visa. Fucking disappeared over night. Leaving his poor mother with nothing.”  
“That’s not true!”, Trevor barked. He was about to swing at him but Michael hold him back. He could feel the furious energy coming off of Trevor. This was okay. He could deal with this.  
“You better get the fuck out of here…!”, Michael said to the man in a calm manner. But the man just scoffed. “I’m not leaving until I get every fucking penny back”, he stated, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  
“You get jack-shit, you leech!”, Trevor shouted.  
Michael put his hand on Trevor’s chest and gently held him back. “Calm down, T” he whispered.  
“Yeah Trevor. Better listen to your fuck buddy!”  
“Shut up”, Michael and Trevor said in unison. Michael pulled out his wallet and looked the stranger in the eye. “How much?”  
Amused, the man cocked and eyebrow. “How much for what?”  
“How much for you to leave.”  
“Michael, what the hell are you doing?!”, Trevor interfered, but Michael shushed him quickly. He glanced at him over his shoulder. “Let me handle this…!”, he responded before turning back to the stranger. “So?”, he asked.  
“two thousand bucks.”  
“Fine.” Michael pulled out the money they had made yesterday and threw it at him, small bills floating through the air. “Take it and leave.”  
Smiling the man grabbed the money and stuffed it into his pockets. “I gotta say Trevor. At least you got yourself a rich boy.”  
“Shut up and get out of here”, Michael said. “If I see you again I will call the fucking cops.”  
“Now, now. No need for this kind of tone. I’m going”, the man said, picking up the last few bills that had landed on the floor. “Just one last thing: Keep that son of a bitch. His Mom doesn’t want him back anyway.”  
Michael quietly flipped him off. And then he was gone.  
When Michael turned around, Trevor was fuming. They silently locked at each other. Then Trevor made a ‘tssk’ sound and stomped to the door, opening it with shaking hands.  
Michael sighed internally. _Well, shit._  
He could hear cupboards open and slam shut. _Fucking A…_  
Taking in a deep breath Michael walked into the apartment. After carefully closing the door he watched Trevor rummaging through their drug stash. He pulled out a small bottle, the pills in it clacking as Trevor tried to open it with his unsteady hands.  
“T…?”  
The bottle popped open and a handful of pills spilled out, a couple of them landing on the carpet. Trevor muttered something under his breath and swallowed the ones in his hand, not even bothering to get a glass of water. Instead, he walked to the refrigerator and took out a can of beer, washing the pills down with it.  
“T, I don’t think you should mix those with alcohol.”  
Trevor wiped his mouth and glared at Michael.  
“You shouldn’t have given him the money…”, he stated, the anger in his words was subtle, bubbling up under the surface. But Michael knew him well enough to know this could escalate any minute.  
“It’s just money, T. I’ll take it from my savings”, he said, trying to calm the other down.  
“That’s not the point.”  
“It was my money. I can do what I want with it.”  
If looks could kill. Trevor glared at Michael with such intensity, it sent chills down his spine.  
Michael threw his good arm in the air. “What else was I supposed to do?! You got all weird. I was fucking worried.”  
Trevor drained the can and threw it with gusto into the sink. “There was nothing to fucking worry about!”  
A frustrated laugh escaped Michael’s lips. “Are you kidding me? You were all distant eyed and shit. Who the fuck was that guy anyway?? And what did he do to you?!”  
“It’s none of your business!”  
There was a moment of silence.  
“You know what? A couple of weeks ago I would have left it at that. But this **is** my business now!”  
Trevor’s look turned cold. “Careful, Michael. Be fucking careful.”  
“NO. I’m sick of this mystery act. We’ve been living together for half a year. We work together. Fuck. I think you are my best fucking friend. Only god knows how that happened. The least I deserve is to know what is up with you!”  
“Fuck you!”  
Trevor was about to storm out but Michael roughly grabbed him by the arm. “You can’t run from this. We need to talk!”  
“Let go of me!”  
“NO.”  
“If you don’t let go I will sucker punch you in your stupid mug.”  
“Be my fucking guest!”  
To make his point Michael lifted his chin. “C’mon. Hit me!”  
He could feel Trevor’s muscle flex under his hand. He could feel the hesitation. And then he felt how Trevor’s wired frame relaxed. So he let go. They looked at each other.  
“Fuck you, Michael.”  
It happened so fast, Michael wasn’t even able to react. The door slammed shut and he was left alone in the apartment.  
He let out a shaky breath. “He’ll be back.”  
The adrenalin coursing through his veins ebbed down and fatigue took hold of him. He slipped out of his shoes, got rid of all his clothes and let himself fall down onto his bed. Distantly, he stared out of the window, watching the sun rise. “He’ll be back…”  
…  
……  
…  
Trevor wasn’t the type of person that bought cigarettes. He usually just took one, if it was offered. But he needed it. Needed to do something. He bought a pack at a gas station, ripped it open and lit the first one. Smoking wasn’t fun and it tasted like shit but he did take a strange pleasure in it right know. It calmed him down. But that could have been the pills kicking in. It didn’t matter.  
He walked to a small park where he lied down on a bench, staring up at the sky. It was a friendly blue, but in the distance dark clouds were assembling. It would rain later that day.  
Trevor was now on his third cigarette, watching the smoke swirl in the air. An ironic smile tugged at the corner of his lips.  
“Fuck.” 

He didn’t realize that he had dozed off. A patrolling cop woke him.  
“Sorry son, but you are not allowed to sleep here.”  
Confused, Trevor blinked. The sky was now hung with thick, dark clouds. How long was he out?  
He stood up and walked off, not even acknowledging the cop who just shook his head and went on his way.  
He didn’t think about where he was going. In the end his feet carried him back to the door of Michael’s apartment. He was hesitant and stared at the hardwood.  
He opened it. The apartment was dark, the blinds were closed. He saw Michael lying on the bed. Judging by the way his chest sank and rose he was asleep.  
Carefully, to not wake him, Trevor closed the door behind him. He then stripped to his underwear and tip-toed over to the bed. Something poked him in the underside of his foot. He looked down. It was the pills he had spilled earlier.  
He lifted the blanket and swiftly climbed under it. Heat was radiating off of Michael’s body. It was really tempting to just cuddle up. But Michael was very stern when it came to his personal space. So, Trevor just stayed where he was and closed his eyes.  
…  
……  
…  
Michael woke up when it was already dark outside. Yawning, he stretched. His hand grazed clammy skin. He halted. It took a moment before his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Then he saw Trevor lying next to him, fast asleep. Michael grinned. _I knew he’d be back…_  
They had tons of fights in the short period that they knew each other. But no matter how bad it got, they always stayed together. What a reassuring thought. What a scary thought. Was this his only constant in life? Trevor?  
Michael absently brushed through Trevor’s hair.  
Maybe it would take a couple of years until they got sick of each other. It was kind of like that with his parents. And one point they just stopped trying to connect with him. Maybe all his relationships were like that. Everyone had an expiration date.  
Sighing, Michael scooped closer until he could lay an arm around Trevor and pull him in. He leaned his forehead against the back of Trevor’s neck. He could’ve used a shower… Was that cigarette stench…?  
_If this has a due date, I might as well enjoy it. All of it._  
Trevor didn’t wake, he probably was out from the pills he took that morning. Michaels hand wandered up to Trevor’s chest and squeezed in gently.  
“T…?”  
Slight stirring.  
“Hey, T?”  
“…hm.”  
“Are you up…?”  
He felt Trevor sigh heavily. His voice was raspy from sleep. “Now I am.”  
Michael nodded. “You okay?”, he then asked.  
There was a second of silence.  
“Yeah. Yeah I am.”  
Michael was relieved to hear that. Trevor’s arm reached back, his hand now resting against Michael’s thigh. “You are hard”, he observed.  
Michael let out an awkward chuckle. That was probably hard to miss, considering that his erection was pressed against Trevor’s butt cheek.  
“Well done, Sherlock.”  
Trevor turned his head so he could actually look at Michael. “You sure about this?”  
Michael thought about it for a second. “Nope. But I am not sure about anything ever. So, who cares.”  
“Good point.”  
Softly laughing Michael started slowly grinding his hard-on against Trevor.  
“I hope this won’t be just you dry-humping me, right?”, Trevor asked, a teasing tone in his voice.  
“Well… as long as I don’t have to take it up the ass I am open for suggestions”, Michael replied.  
Trevor took Michael’s hand on his chest and guided it down to his boxer briefs. “Well. Then get to work.”  
Trevor let go and Michael hesitantly dipped his hand down there. Trevor already had a semi. Michael gently put his hand around it, breathing out a laugh. “God, this is weird…”  
Slow at first, Michael started pumping it, doing what he usually did with himself. Trevor seemed to enjoy it, he leaned into it, raspy moans spilling out every now and then.  
The first drips of pre-come coated his hand, making everything smoother and more enjoyable.  
Trevor was already out of breath when he grabbed Michael’s wrist to stop him. He glanced at him. “Condoms?”  
Michael nodded and rolled to the other side of the bed. Opening the top drawer, he pulled out a packet of condoms and a small bottle of lube. He put them on the bed and slipped out of his underwear, tossing it to the ground. Trevor did the same with his shorts.  
Michael was about to rip the condom open but Trevor took it away from him, a sly smile on his face. He pushed Michael back on to the mattress. He lied down next to him and opened the condom himself. Michael watched in awe as Trevor rolled it over Michaels hard cock, his hand sliding up and down on it. Then Trevor leaned in and put a soft kiss on Michael’s lips. Michael returned it, grabbing Trevor by the neck and pulling him in closer, deepening the kiss. A satisfied hum escaped him. With his other hand Michael traced the hard muscles on Trevor’s skinny body. Not an ounce of fat was on him. Very different to the voluptuous girls Michael usually had in bed.  
Oxygen got sparse, they had to separate. Michael stared up into Trevor’s brown eyes. “How do I…?”  
Trevor grinned and pulled Michael on top of him, his legs closing behind Michael’s back.  
“Get the lube.”  
Michael nodded and reached for the lube. He popped the bottle open and drizzled his fingers with it. He hesitantly looked at Trevor. “I guess I first have to...”  
Trevor nodded. “That would be swell”  
“Oh god, please don’t talk like that while we are doing this…!”  
Trevor chuckled. “Sorry.”  
Getting the first finger in was relatively easy. And weird. Trevor most definitely was not a girl. Even though the sounds he made weren’t that much different. Michael actually took a strange kind of accomplishment out of every moan and shivery breath.  
As Michael slipped in the second finger, Trevor grabbed Michael by the hair and pulled him down for a deep, longing kiss. Michael moaned into it as he was working Trevor lose. As they parted Trevor grinned at him. “Fuck, this is hot.”  
Michael grinned back. “Yeah?”  
“What can I say, I am a chubby chaser”, Trevor teased, pinching Michael’s soft belly.  
“Keep on joking like this and I will stop”, Michael said, only half-serious.  
“Alright, alright, I’ll be a good boy.”  
He let go of Michael’s tummy chub and instead wrapped his arms around Michael’s neck. “Ready when you are”, Trevor whispered into Michael’s ear.  
Michael didn’t need to hear that for a second time. He aligned himself with Trevor’s entrance, heart beating faster. As he pressed the head in he let out a moan. “Fuck, you are tight…!”, he groaned, almost not believing how good this felt.  
He slowly started to move, thrusting in deeper. He felt like he was seeing stars. This was fucking great. Trevor’s fingers gripped Michael’s skin tighter, probably leaving a couple of bruises in the process. “Damn Mikey.”  
The moment Michael adjusted to the new sensation he really started to go, pounding in mercilessly. Trevor’s moans got louder, sometimes they got stuck in his throat. “Oh god, just like that sugar-tits!”  
Michael couldn’t help but chuckle. “Not really the situation to call me that, T.”  
Trevor was jerking himself off in the rhythm of Michael’s thrust, relishing the moment. Michael took one of his legs and flung it over his shoulder, thrusting in even deeper, getting a deep guttural groan out of Trevor in return. Before Trevor could say anything, he came, cum splattering on his tattooed stomach and chest.  
“F-fuck”, Michael managed to breath out before coming himself. 

They didn’t bother to clean up, they both were too spent and tired. Soiled in there own cum and sweat the lied next to each other, blankly staring up the wall.  
“Well, we did that”, Michael observed.  
“Yup.”  
Trevor turned his head to Michael and put his hand on Michael’s pec, squeezing it. He smiled cheekily. “Wanna do it again?”  
Michael smiled.  
“Give me an hour.”  
…  
……  
…


	16. The break-up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a bunch of relationships and some big news

**Chapter 16: The break-up**

 

It was the telephone that woke Michael with its infernal ringing.   
He groaned and opened his eyes.   
Trevor was laying beside him, head comfortably rested on Michael’s arm. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the ringing. Michael decided to just wait it out. It took a minute before it silenced only for it to be ringing again five minutes later.   
Irritated, Michael sighed. He carefully lifted Trevor’s head and lowered it back onto the pillow, freeing his arm. He then got up and walked over to the telephone.   
“Who is it?”, Michael asked sleepily.   
“Michael. It’s me.”   
Michael stopped breathing. Amanda.   
“Uh, hey.”  
“Hey…”  
Oh boy, he didn’t like the tone of her voice. He let out a nervous laugh.  
“Isn’t it like… super expensive to call from France?”, he asked.   
Amanda was sighing on the other end of the line. “I’m back.”   
“Oh.”   
There was silence.   
“Why did you never write me…?”  
“Uh… I don’t know, I guess I forgot… How did you get my number anyway?”  
“I called your parents house and they gave it to me.”  
Michael nodded absently. “Okay.”   
“We gotta talk, Michael.” The way she said it left no room for discussion. As if his current situation wasn’t complicated enough, now Amanda was back in the mix.   
“Okay.”  
“Meet me in an hour. Down at the beach. At the café we used to go.”  
“Yeah… Sure. I’ll see you then.”  
“See you, Michael.”  
And then she hung up. Michael hung up as well and looked over to Trevor who was still fast asleep. He decided it was best to not wake him. So, he cleansed himself off the last reminders of last night, put on his clothes and left.   
…  
……  
…  
She had cut her hair short.   
Not ‘short’ short. But definitely shorter. She was as pretty as always. But there was something sad about here. Michael knew why. Exactly knew why. And he did feel guilty about it. But he also felt defensive. She was the one that left. She hung out with that French turd Jean. It wasn’t Michael. It was her fault, really.   
She stood in front of the café, wind blowing her hair. Michael gingerly walked up to her. She smiled at him. It wasn’t an honest smile. But then again, he didn’t expect one.   
She walked ahead inside. Michael followed.   
They sat down at a small corner table. The waiter took their order and after five minutes returned with two cups of coffee, one black, one with skim milk.   
Amanda cradled the cup in her hands.  
“So…”, she began. “Where are we, you and I?”   
Michael looked down at his coffee and shrugged. “I don’t know.”   
“Did you… Sleep around while I was gone…?”  
Michael looked up. Wow she really cut quickly to the chase… He could lie. Easily. But he had this strange sense of duty to tell her the truth.   
“Yeah.”   
They looked at each other.   
“Did you?”, Michael continued.   
There was that sad smile again. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”  
That was actually a relief to hear. He always cheated on her. Always. He never really felt guilty about it but for some reason it was different after yesterday.   
“I guess we should break up then”, Michael concluded.   
She looked a bit hurt by that statement. Just a bit.   
“Yeah. It’s probably for the best…”  
They were quiet again. Then Michael took her hand. “I hope you’ll be happy Amanda. I hope you’ll have a career and a family and all that functional life shit. I really do.”   
She smiled. An actual smile. She squeezed his hand.   
“I could have had that with you too…”  
Michael shook his head. “No you couldn’t. You have no idea what I went through the last semester. My football career is officially over. My academic career wasn’t going anywhere in the first place and I got into some shady shit”, he had to chuckle, “And to be honest? I kind of like where I am at right now.”   
She frowned at that.   
“Shady shit? What do you mean?”  
“It’s nothing to be concerned about”, he assured her.   
She withdrew her hand and took a sip from her coffee. “Okay… But if you are ever in trouble… I’m here to help.”  
Michael smiled.   
“Thanks.”  
…  
……  
…  
Michael had never felt so light before. He practically floated back home. He cut a tie that had held him back. Now there was nothing left. He was free. One semester left and he’d be done with college. What happened after that was completely up for imagination.   
Trevor was awake when he entered the apartment, munching on some Fruit loops without any milk. He just dug his hand into the cardboard box and shoved the cereal into his mouth. He grinned when he saw Michael.   
“I almost got worried you ran away after last night.”   
Michael chuckled. “And leave you with my place? No chance.”   
“So…? Did your fat ass decide you should go for a walk again?”  
“Hahaha, no. I broke up with Amanda.”   
Trevor raised his eyebrows. “Oh damn. I forgot about her! She came back?”  
“Yep.”  
“Was the break-up messy?”  
“Surprisingly no. It went well. We’re still friends.”   
“She’s better off without you anyway.”  
Michael flipped him off. “Well, fuck you too.”  
That stupid, mischievous grin. “I got you for that now.”   
Defeated Michael sighed and took the fruit loops box from Trevor to get a handful for himself. “I hate it when you make a good point.”   
Michael switched on the TV and sat down on the couch. Trevor joined him.   
“Hey sugar-tits.”  
Michael didn’t take his gaze off the screen. “Yeah?”  
“I want to tell you about that guy yesterday.”   
Now he looked at Trevor.   
“You do?”  
“Yup.”   
Michael lowered the volume on the TV. “Okay. Shoot.”   
Trevor hesitated. “He’s the on and off boyfriend of my mom. He’s been that for like… I don’t know. Fifteen years?”  
Michael nodded. He had suspected as much.   
“So… Uh… He was an abusive piece of shit. Like my mom was kind of abusive too but he was worse. I don’t really want to get into the details of things but it was bad, I guess.”  
Michael put a hand on Trevor’s thigh. “He was the reason you went to prison, right? They guy that came at you with a knife?”  
“Yeah. So, after I got out I had to go back to them, right? I didn’t have a place to stay at. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t go back. My Mom didn’t trust in banks. She kept all her money in cash under her mattress. I snuck in. I got the money. I got into a college in Montreal. After the first year I applied for this program to study abroad. That’s how I ended up here.”   
“Sounds reasonable to me.”  
Trevor seemed to be surprised by that.  
“It does?”  
Michael shrugged. “Sure. You had to get out of there.”  
Trevor nodded. “Yeah. I had to. Thanks, sugar-tits.”  
…  
……  
…  
The remaining weeks of the semester break flew by like they were nothing.   
They kept on working on the streets at night, now with more care. It’s not like they made little money, even after the pay cut, but they still needed to get some in. Nobody wanted another incident with the big boss Rascalov. And after the break they wouldn’t have as much time. Well Trevor did, that ridiculously smart fucker always did, but Michael didn’t.   
The semester started and they moved back into their room. Michael was busy setting up the TV when Packie and Little Jacob strolled into the room.   
“Nice to see you guys are back”, Packie announced. Michael looked up from his work. “Hey Packie. Jacob.”   
Trevor stepped out of the shower, hair dripping wet. “Hey guys.”   
Closing the door behind him, Packie’s look got serious.   
“Have you heard the news?”  
“News?”, Michael asked.   
“I just heard it from Niko. We will ditch the Russians in two weeks.”   
Both Michael and Trevor looked at the messenger with surprise. “Already? He already got everything together…?”  
“Niko is a smart man, rasta.”  
A sly grin crept on Packie’s face.   
“We are going to be rich!”  
…  
……  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's a short chapter this week, the next one will be longer tho!


	17. Kill him.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life after the semester break. Rascalov is on his bullshit again.

**Chapter 17: Kill him.**

 

Lazily leaned against the edge of the bleacher Michael watched the morning football practice, a cigarette hanging off his lips. A shitty habit he picked up after the semester break.   
Even though he couldn’t participate anymore he liked watching his former teammates run around the field. It was silly, really. A bunch of guys fighting over a stupid egg-shaped ball in the hopes of getting picked up by the big leagues one day….  
Devin did a shit job as quarterback. Of course, he did. It brought a smile to Michael’s lips. Let him struggle.   
Michael didn’t notice it at first, but someone sat down next to him. Michael glanced over. “Hey P.”   
Packie bumped his fist with Michael’s and nodded at the cigarette. Michael passed it to him. Grinning, he watched Packie take a few drags. “I thought you tried to stop?”  
“I was drunk when I said that.”  
“And here I was, thinking that you can take a drunk Irish man by his word.”   
“You obviously have no idea about my people”, Packie huffed out, chuckling. He gave the cigarette back to Michael. “God bless the Irish”, Michael mused.   
They watched the rest of the practice, making witty comments here and there. When it was over they stayed, eyes closed, quietly smoking.   
Heavy steps came up to stairs. A shadow fell over Michael’s face and he squinted. Devin was standing over him, a mocking grin plastered across his face.   
“It’s super creepy watching your ex from afar, isn’t it Townley?”  
Chuckling, Packie looked Devin up and down while waiting on Michael to do something. Michael took out the cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke into Devin’s direction. “It’s not like I fucked football, smartass”, he calmly retorted.   
Devin was definitely bothered and he did a bad job hiding it. Eccentric fool.   
“You okay with showcasing your fall from graze like that?”   
“You okay still being up my ass, even though I am not on the team anymore?”  
Devin defensively crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Joke all you want, Townley. I know it eats you up at night that _I_ am the quarterback now.”  
Packie scoffed and flicked his cigarette at Devin’s feet. “No offense Mr. Quarterback, but who the fuck cares? Football is nothing but the sissy version of rugby.”  
Devin ignored Packie and went on.   
“Now you hang with the low-life’s too? That’s sad Townley.”   
Packie stood up, a furious look on his face. To say it was comical how scared Devin suddenly looked when this small Irish dude got into his face was an understatement. “What did you just call me, you clown?”   
Michael got up as well but he did not have any intentions of stopping Packie. He stood there, smiling from ear to ear. “Yeah Devin. _Who_ were you calling a low-life?”  
Flustered, Devin looked from Packie to Michael and back. He then turned around and stomped off. “Fuck you guys!”, he muttered shortly before leaving their hearing range.   
Packie shook his head. “How the hell did you never crack this guy?”  
Michael laughed softly. “I did.”  
“Obviously not hard enough”  
…  
……  
…  
Trevor walked out of the lecturing hall, a satisfied smirk on his face, in his hand a paper graded with an A. _Too easy_ , he thought to himself.   
He was about to walk back to his room, already planning on rubbing his effortless genius into Michael’s face when a light tap on his shoulder made him stop. Brucie. He wasn’t making any eye contact, he was too busy assessing the floor. Trevor turned around to greet him. “Hey there big guy! Long time no see.”  
Brucie awkwardly rubbed his neck. “Haha yeah. So… how was your break, bro…?”  
Trevor lifted an eyebrow. “Fan-tastic. And yours?”  
“Good I guess.”   
Silence. Trevor leaned in, invading Brucie’s field of vision. “Is something up?”, he asked, fully aware of ‘what was up’.   
Brucie turned red in an instant. Impressive. “Well uh… Remember the party where you and I almost…”, he looked around at the students passing them in the hall. No one payed them any attention. “You know…”  
“I do remember. Can’t stop thinking about good ol’ Trevor, eh?”  
Floundering, Brucie looked up. Trevor almost felt bad for being such an asshole, but these reactions were adorable.   
“NO!”, Brucie yelled out. Then, more quietly he added: “yes…”   
Trevor had to hold down a giggle.   
“I was thinking and… Uh… Would you like to get dinner or some shit…Bro?”   
Oh Brucie, bless his simple mind.   
“I’d love to ‘get dinner or some shit’ but I’m kinda seeing someone.”  
Brucie looked surprised. But also sad. “Oh…”  
“Yeah. I guess we’re kind of exclusive too.”   
Nodding, Brucie was about to walk off but Trevor swung his arm around Brucie’s wide shoulders. “You breaking my heart big guy, don’t be so sad. You’ll find someone”, he said.  
Brucie forced on a smile. “Yeah I know, it’s just… I don’t know anyone like you, man… It’s not like these guys are easy to spot.”   
Trevor nodded, thinking. Then it came to mind.   
“Ever heard of Gay Tony?”  
“Who?”  
“Gay Tony. Pretty famous guy. Runs a couple of clubs over in Liberty City. You should go there sometime during the weekend.”  
This seemed to raise Brucie’s mood. “Huh… Maybe I should.”  
“Sure…! Check it out!”  
…  
……  
…  
Michael was extremely tired when he entered their room. The light’s were already out and he could see Trevor lying in his bed. Michael swiftly slipped out of all his clothes and just lied on top of him. Judging by Trevor’s calm voice hadn’t slept yet.   
“You’re back late.”  
“Was out with P and LJ”, Michael mumbled into the blanket. He scooted forward to where he assumed Trevor’s head was and kissed him. By sheer luck he actually got the lips. Trevor kissed back first but then shifted away. “Ewww.”  
“Ewww?”, Michael huffed out.   
“You smoked”, Trevor stated.   
“So? You smoke too.”  
“Occasionally. Not every damn day. I’ve been kissing an ashtray for two weeks straight.”   
Michael rolled his eyes.  
“Okay, I’ll cut you a deal. You start showering more than once a week and I’ll stop smoking.”   
Trevor let out an angry huff. Then he grabbed a fist full of Michael’s hair and kissed him again. As they parted Michael started chuckling. “That ashtray ain’t so bad now, huh?”  
“Shut up, Townley.”  
“Make me.”  
…  
……  
…  
Michael woke up to the sound of a running shower. He let out a soft chuckle. Trevor could be a stubborn piece of shit but he _did_ listen sometimes.   
When Trevor stepped out Michael was still lying in bed, playing a game on Trevor’s Gameboy. “Morning”, he greeted.   
“Hey”, Trevor said before dropping the towel and going through his dresser. He glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t you have classes, you lazy fuck?”  
Michael looked at the clock on the wall. Then he shrugged. “I can skip philosophy.”  
“Nietzsche will miss you. Anyways, I’ll be out today, selling.”   
“So, I guess I’ll see you tonight?”  
Trevor was almost done dressing, he slipped on a worn out, white t-shirt and walked over to Michael. He leaned down and kissed him briefly. “Yep… See ya, sugar tits!”  
“See ya.”  
…  
Trevor was doing his usual route, starting in the poorer neighbourhoods and working himself up to the rich bozos. It wasn’t a particularly busy day, weekdays never were. But it did bring in a good amount of cash. And it was nice doing it alone every now and then. Even though he enjoyed having Michael with him, watching his back.   
He was walking through a dark alleyway, daydreaming about the last few weeks and how his life had turned around since he robbed that liquor store, when a dark figure emerged from the shadows behind him. He didn’t even notice, the next thing he knew was, that he was pushed against a dirty wall and his head smashed against it. Then everything turned black.   
…  
Michael was strolling aimlessly through the corridors of the university when he ran into Little Jacob and Packie who were busy negotiating prices with a stressed-out looking student. Ah, the pressure of academia. Michael watched from a few feet away, seeing how the defences of the guy crumbled until he pulled out his wallet and handed Jacob what looked like at least a hundred bucks before taking one of the pill containers presented to him. Then he walked off, a defeated expression on his face. Michael grinned at the guy as he passed him and walked up to his friends. “Nice”, he said.   
“All a matter of negotiation”, Packie replied, putting the drugs back in his backpack.   
“Ay yo, u up for cluckin bell? We were about to go”, Jacob asked.   
“Yeah sure, why not, I could eat.”

Because the Cluckin Bell wasn’t that far away they decided to walk. It was a nice, spotless day anyway.   
They had to stop at a traffic light. As they patiently waited for it to become green a black van pulled up in front of them and stopped in the middle of the street, cars behind it honking angrily at the inconvenience. Before they knew it, the doors opened and black clad hands pulled them in.   
The traffic light turned green and the van was gone.   
…  
……  
…  
Michael’s eyes were covered by a blindfold, the taste of blood lingered in his mouth. He felt the car move, felt every nook and cranny. He heard the heavy breathing of Packie and Jacob. He heard the muffled Russian conversations. What the hell was going on…?  
Michael figured they drove for a couple of blocks, but it was hard to tell when you couldn’t see. The sound of other cars was getting quieter the farther they drove. Tires squeaked as the vehicle came to a slow halt. He could hear shouts. Then the door slid open. Someone grabbed him hard by the arm, yanking him outside. He almost fell in the process.   
They were led to a building. The door was creaking as it opened. There was something familiar about this…   
Inside they were all forced to sit down before their hands were tied behind their backs. Then their blindfolds were removed. Michael blinked, the sudden, harsh light violating his eyes. His vision was blurry at first but it soon became clearer.   
They were at the warehouse. Niko’s and Roman’s home… A bunch of Russian gangsters dressed in dark clothes were walking around the place.   
“Mikey! Are you okay?”  
Michael looked to where the voice came from. It was Trevor. He was bleeding from a nasty cut on the right side of his forehead. _Fucking bastards…!_  
“I’m fine”, he answered quietly.   
The whole gang was here. Niko, Roman, Trevor, Packie and Jacob… This couldn’t be good. The severity of the situation now sunk in fully and Michael couldn’t help but shiver. If it was out of fear or excitement, he couldn’t quite tell. 

“You useless punks didn’t think I would notice, now did you…?”

All of them raised their heads. Rascalov was standing in front of them, a scolding look on his face. He started pacing from left to right, eyeing every single one of them.   
“You were smart about it. I give you that.”  
He halted when he reached Niko. Then he put his shoe on Niko’s shoulder, digging his heel in. “Smart. But not smart enough, засранец.”  
Niko spat on the floor and looked back up. “Speak English.”  
Rascalov kicked Niko to the floor and went back to pacing along the line of young men. “You stole from me. Tried to go behind my back. I should kill you all.”  
The air was so thick, it felt like you could cut it with a knife.   
“But I won’t. Because I am generous. But actions must be punished…”  
He stopped again and looked at them, hands comfortably clasped behind his back.   
“Whose idea was it…?”  
Silence.   
Rascalov sighed. “I don’t even have to ask. I know it was you, Niko Bellic. Get gim.”  
Two thugs who had been standing behind them grabbed Niko by the shoulders and hauled him to his feet. “Niko…!”, Roman whined.   
“It wasn’t Niko’s idea, you weak Stalin impersonator!”, Trevor blurted out.   
With a simple hand gesture Rascalov commanded his thugs to let Niko back down. “Was it your idea?”, he asked.   
Michael looked at Trevor in horror. Trevor went on, a confident smile on his face.   
“Mine and mine alone, Shit head.”   
“получить его”  
The thugs grabbed Trevor and dragged him to Rascalov. Trevor was still grinning from ear to ear.   
“Ts, ts, ts. Such language. You need a lesson in manners”, Rascalov remarked.   
“Fuck you”, Trevor spat back.   
Done with his nerves, Rascalov pulled out a butterfly knife.   
“Don’t!”, Michael managed to get out. But he was ignored.  
Trevor struggled against the hold, but the guys held him tight. One put his hand on Trevor’s forehead to hold him still. The blade of the knife slid underneath Trevor’s upper lip where the sharp steel rested for a moment.   
Rascalov looked Trevor dead in the eye but when he talked it was meant for everyone in the room.   
“Now let this be a warning. Don’t ever cross me again.”  
A swift movement of the wrist and the blade went right through Trevor’s lip, an ugly gash of blood soiling his white shirt.   
Rascalov wiped the blade with mild disgust on Trevor’s jeans and put it back. “I’ll be back to get my money next week. Have it ready, Bellic.”   
The thugs cut their restraints and in only a couple of minutes they were alone in the warehouse.  
Michael was the first to rush to Trevor’s side, moving Trevor’s hand away to get a better look at the cut. “Fuck T!!! Shit!”  
Despite the nasty cut, Trevor was smiling. “I’m fine, sugar-tits.”  
“Ayo this fuckin’ piece o’ shit dunno what he’s messin’ wit, Rasta! Fucking white boy”, Jacob fumed, rubbing his sore wrists.   
“Yeah! He went too far this time, I don’t give a shit who he is, he’s going to get it!”, Packie agreed.   
The only one remotely calm in the group was Roman. But there was a hint of anger in his voice too. “Guys, guys just think for a second…! This is the Russian mafia we’re dealing with here, what are we supposed to do?”

“Kill him”

All of them looked at Niko with wide eyes, a stunned silence filling the room.   
A nervous laugh slipped out of Roman. “What are you talking about, cousin?”  
Niko had that scary, determined look in his eyes.

“I’m going to kill him.” 

…  
……  
…


	18. Terrifying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all about death. + M realizes he might be a sociopath.

**Chapter 18: Terrifying**

 

“You’re angry. I get that. But you can’t just kill a person…!”, Michael tried to reason, while still having Trevor’s blood on his hands.   
Niko was fuming. Michael had never seen him like this.   
“We’re lucky we are all still alive! If we don’t act, we are going to be the ones in the ground”, Niko bit back. He was pacing around the warehouse with pent up energy and not knowing what to do with it.   
“He’s right, sugar-tits. Rascalovs gotta go.”  
Michael turned around, glaring at Trevor who was sitting on the sofa, head leaned back as to not spill more of his blood all over the place.   
“Do you even hear what you are saying? You guys are suggesting to _murder_ someone…!”  
“Him or us, Michael. Who do you want it to be?”, Packie interfered.   
That rendered Michael speechless. Him or us. Him or _us_  
Roman grabbed the pacing Niko by the arm and sat him down. Then he shoved a mug of freshly brewed coffee in his hands.   
“How bout we just stay calm for a second. You guys go back to college. We’ll talk about this later.”  
“But…!”, Michael tried.  
“Look at Trevor! He needs stitches. Handle it. Our treat, okay?”, Niko interrupted.   
Michael looked over at Trevor. The blood was dripping through the gaps between his fingers. He sighed and helped Trevor get up. “Yeah…Yeah. You right. We’ll see you guys later…” 

The emergency room was packed.   
A guy had a fishhook stuck in his ear, a woman held her crying kid that had an open gash on it’s forehead. Michael didn’t like this place. All those people plus the smell of sterile cleaner made his stomach turn. He was filling out the form for Trevor the nurse had handed to him, checking on Trevor every now and then.   
“Allergies?”  
“Nope”  
“Heart disease in the family?”  
“Doe’s heart attack because of meth overdose count?”  
Michael chuckled. “I guess not… Mental health history?”  
Trevor silently looked at Michael, an eyebrow raised.   
“Do you really want me to get into that?”  
Michael circled ‘no’ on the paper and filled out the rest he could do without Trevor. Before he got up he leaned over to Trevor. “You need something from the vending machine?”  
“Get me a coke, sweetheart.”   
“Eww, god, don’t call me that in public!”  
Trevor grinned at that, but stopped immediately because it hurt his cut and it started to bleed again. “Idiot”, Michael murmured before getting up and giving the form back to the nurse at the counter. He then walked over to the vending machine to get Trevor his coke. He got himself one too.   
Falling back into the chair next to Trevor he opened the can and gave it to him.   
“Thanks”, Trevor said, leaning in, but Michael held him back.   
“Uhhh. What are you doing?”, Michael asked, his voice low.  
“Oh I don’t know, kissing you?”  
Disgusted, Michael shook his head. “Oh no, not like this. You’re still all… bloody. Later. When you are stitched up and we’re alone.”  
Frowning, Trevor leaned back and took a careful sip of his beverage.   
“You are so vanilla.”   
“Haha, Fuck you.”   
The Nurse behind the counter stood up and looked into the crowd. “Mister Phillips? The doctor is ready for you.”

“How does it look…?”  
“Well, to be fair, you never were someone who I would call conventionally attractive.”  
Trevor punched Michael hard on his upper arm. He was glancing at his reflection in the mirror. The stitches were neatly done but it sure as hell was going to leave a scar. Bummed out about it he sighed and turned away from the mirror.   
“If this goes on like this, I’ll be covered in scars by the time I’m thirty.”  
Not sure of what to do Michael took Trevor by the hand and pulled him in. They were standing in the doctor’s office and the doctor had just left to get some meds.   
“For what it’s worth, I still want a piece of this”, Michael grinned and gently kissed Trevor. Trevor smiled. “Ha, that’s gay”  
Michael was about to make a snarky remark but then the doctor came back in. Michael let go of Trevor’s hand instinctively.   
“Soooo, Mr. Philips, I got you your antibiotics. Just take two every day with a meal for about a week and you should be good. If it does get infected anyway, just come back.”   
“Alrighty then. Thanks doc.” 

Back at the dorm, they were lying in bed while a VHS of police academy was playing on Michael’s TV set. Trevor had his head rested on Michaels chest and Michael could tell he wasn’t really paying attention to the movie. Michael stroked Trevor’s arm absently and sighed.   
“What a fucking day.”  
“Yeah.”  
Silence.  
“Do you think Niko was serious?”, Michael asked, voice small.   
“Yeah”, Trevor answered in a matter of fact way.   
They stopped talking after that.   
…  
……  
…  
They heard nothing from Niko or Rascalov in the following week. Life was quieting down again. Michael was relieved but the last run-in with the big boss still lingered in the back of his mind, making him a tad jumpier. Especially when he and Trevor went out to sell. He always was on edge during work hours but with the new situation it was worse.   
It was a Thursday. Trevor and Michael decided to stay in today, Thursday was a slow day anyway. It was dark outside and it got steamy in the room. Trevor was down to his boxer shorts, sitting on Michael’s lap while making out with him. His lip was healing well, but the thread holding the cut together was still in and it was going to stay for another week. He leaned back and started to unbutton Michael’s shirt, accidentally ripping off a button in the process. Michael usually would have gotten mad at that, it was a Ralph Lauren shirt, but he was too horny to care.   
But then their door just swung open.   
Startled, Michael pushed Trevor off him, his face turning red. Trevor managed to catch himself before landing on the floor. He wasn’t nearly as embarrassed as Michael was, in fact he actually looked kind of smug about it.   
“Echh, I know you guys are an item, or whatever but give a guy a warning!” Packie said, looking everywhere except at them.  
“What the fuck, you were the one who just burst in unannounced, P!”, Michael yelled out.  
Flustered, Packie covered his eyes with his hand. “S-sorry, it’s just that it is urgent. For fucks sake, Trevor put on some pants, I can see your hard-on.”  
Being amused by the situation Trevor giggled gleefully and took his sweet time grabbing a pair of Michael’s sweatpants and putting them on.   
“Better?”  
Packie exhaled loudly and uncovered his eyes. “Much. Now take this.” He pulled out a key and threw it at Michael. Michael caught it. “Isn’t this the key to your car?”  
Packie nodded. “Take it, drive to the ware house and wait by the emergency exit. Hurry.”   
“What the hell is going on, P?”  
“Just do it! I have to go now, I see you guys at the ware house!”, Packie said before storming out of the room. Michael glanced at Trevor. “Do you know what this is about?”  
“No fucking idea.” 

Nervously tapping against the steering wheel Michael looked into the rear-view mirror. Neither behind nor in front of them was anything suspicious. No trace of anybody.   
Trevor was as calm as ever, basically melting into the passenger seat. The radio was on, volume on low. Under the pressure by the war on drugs was playing. Michael knew every word of the lyrics and would have sung along any other day. But right now, he was just too goddamn wired.   
“This is weird, isn’t it?”  
Trevor shrugged. “I guess?”  
Michael gritted his teeth. “C’mon, Niko always tells us what’s up. Something is wrong. I can tell.”   
Groaning, Trevor rolled his eyes and pulled out the pack of cigarettes in Michael’s back pocket.   
“Geez, sugar-tits, relax, will you? Everything will be alright. Open up.”   
Michael sighed and parted his lips. Trevor stuck a cigarette between them and lit it for Michael. Michael took a deep breath and leaned into his seat.   
“Are we cool now?”  
He let out a chuckle, smoke whirling inside the car. “Yeah. A bit… But… Don’t you hate it when I smoke?”  
Trevor grinned. “I hate it even more when you are an anxious wreck. It’s fucking irritating.”  
“You are fucking irritating”, Michael bit back, but he didn’t really mean it.   
Trevor flipped him off with a playful smile. 

Bang, bang, bang. 

Michael flinched in his seat and held onto the steering wheel.   
Even Trevor lost some of his cool, now peeking out of the window. “Gunshots.”, he stated.   
They stayed put. After five minutes the emergency exit opened up. Packie and Little Jacob stepped outside, both guns in their hands. Niko and Roman followed. They were dragging something- No. Someone outside.  
Michael watched it through the rear view mirror, not believing what he was seeing. “Holy shit…”, he gasped while he watched how they dragged the body to the car. Packie opened up the trunk. The car shook as the trunk was loaded. Then they all got into the car, four men squeezing into the backseat. The smell of blood fresh blood mixed with the smell of Michael’s cigarette. “Drive”, Niko ordered in a calm voice.   
Michael didn’t hesitate, he started the car and they drove off. 

His hands were clammy and it felt like the steering wheel could slip out underneath them at any minute. It was dead silent inside the car. Except for the radio, who now was playing Bronski Beat’s small town boy.   
Michael wasn’t even sure where he was supposed to be going, he just drove. After a while Niko tapped him on the shoulder. “Drive past the beach, but stay close to the sea.”  
“Okay.”  
They drove further out of town, the sea to the left of them. Michael’s heart was pounding in his chest. They were a couple of miles outside of town when Niko told him to take a left-turn. Michael turned the steering wheel and they drove a small road down to an abandoned beach.   
The car squeaked as it came to a halt. They all got out.   
Niko walked back to the trunk of the car and opened it. “Roman, a hand.”  
Roman hurried over to him and helped him lift out the dead body. This was the first time Michael got a good look at it. He knew it had to be Rascalov, but actually seeing him was weird. The face and the upper body were drenched in blood and Michael got a peek of what looked like the bullet wound. It was grotesque to look at.   
“This will be the last we see of Mr. Rascalov”, Packie said as he helped throw the body into the sea.   
Michael felt numb. Not scared, not horrified, just numb.   
“This is insane…”   
Trevor threw an arm around Michael’s neck and pulled him in closer. “That scumbag had it coming.”   
Michael didn’t add anything to that. He didn’t know what he could.   
Niko was covered in Rascalov’s blood and started stripping. Meanwhile Little Jacob pulled some extra clothes out of his backpack and gave it to Niko who quickly put it on. After that he lit a match and set the blood-soaked clothes on fire.   
“Sorry this had to happen so spontaneously. But it had to be done”, he said, watching the flames.   
“What now?”, Trevor asked.   
“Me and Roman will disappear for a while. Rascalov didn’t have too many friends but let’s better be safe than sorry.”  
Hands in Pocket Packie walked around the fire. “And what are we supposed to do…?”  
“Stay here. Finnish college. We left one of his thugs alive and he only saw me and Roman. So you guys should be okay.”  
“Where are yu goin’, man?”  
“Liberty City. I know a few people over there”, Roman answered.   
Packie sighed. “Fuck, I’m going to miss you guys.”   
Niko smiled. “Thanks for everything. In the back of a trunk is a suitcase with ten grand for each of you. See it as a parting present.”  
“Wow”, Trevor exclaimed.   
Niko stretched and nodded at them. “We’re off. There’s a payphone not far from here, we’ll get a cab… You guys take the car. Uh… You might wanna get rid of it. Sorry Packie.”  
Packie chuckled. “Are you kidding? That old treadmill isn’t worth anything. Thanks Niko.”  
They all said their goodbyes and then Niko and Roman were gone. 

The car ride back home was quiet. Packie was driving. Michael leaned his head against the window and watched the glistening sea. Trevor was basically sprawled out across the whole backseat, head on Michael’s lap and feet up on the head rest, eyes closed.   
Michael sighed deeply and looked at his reflection. It baffled him how _okay he felt_.  
He shouldn’t feel okay. He should be shocked. Should be outraged. But he was okay.   
He was fine.   
And that was terrifying.   
…  
……  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy we're getting closer to the end.   
> I mean, really close.   
> There will be about 1-3 chapters and then we'll wrap this thing up. Thanks to everyone who has been reading, leaving kudos, commenting, etc. You guys are the reason I kept uploading weekly, so, uhhh. Thanks!


	19. What makes you happy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M is in denial. As usual.

**Chapter 19: What makes you happy?**

 

“I want you to come up with a theme for your last essay, we won’t give you any guidelines, the choice is completely up to you. And remember, this assignment makes fifty percent of your final grade. So choose wisely. Have a nice day.”  
The lively sound of students packing their books and notes filled the lecturing hall. Michael sat in the far back as he usually did. He payed more attention at the lectures lately. Not because he was particularly interested but because he had nothing else to do.  
There were no notes or books on his desk. He didn’t even bring his backpack. He just waited until most of the students already left and then got up to leave himself to avoid the big crowd.  
As he was walking through the corridors, passing all these stressed out teens, he felt indifferent. Like a neutral particle. He felt like this for a couple of weeks and he couldn’t decide if he liked it or not.  
Before the whole Rascalov debacle he would have gone straight to his room and hung out with Trevor. But not anymore. He walked straight outside, nothing particular in his mind of where to go and what to do. He just walked.  
He did that a lot lately too.  
In the beginning he walked through the town but after a while he liked to stay outside of it all and walk the more scenic routes, sometimes strolling for hours until he reached the big Vinewood letters up on the hill. Then he would watch the sunset and call a cab to drive back to the dorm. Most of the time Trevor was asleep at that point.  
Today he was doing just that.  
As he stood there, leaned against the big V letter, lighting himself a cigarette and watching the sky change colors, he remembered his first psychedelic trip. How they all were up here. How he saw hell itself in Trevor’s eyes. Now he doesn’t need drugs anymore to see it. He looks Trevor in the eyes and there it is. When he looked into a mirror he saw it too. What to make of it, he wasn’t sure. In a way, he liked it.  
The sun had vanished and made way for the night. With all the light pollution stars were barely visible over a big City like Los Santos. But the few that could be seen were beautiful.  
He finished a whole pack of cigarettes before he called himself a cab with his new cell phone. They new ones on the market were big and clunky but very convenient. And much slimmer than their predecessors.  
He had gotten a cab often enough to recognize most of the drivers. As the cab pulled up he greeted the driver and got in. The drive back was quiet, the cabbie’s knew that Michael wasn’t really up for conversations. 

Back at the dorm Michael opened the door as quietly as possible. But to his surprise the lights were on and Trevor was sitting on his bed, going through a magazine.  
Michael groaned internally.  
“Heyho, sugar-tits!”  
“Hi”  
He closed the door behind him and sat on his own bed, kicking off his shoes. Trevor watched him closely. Studying him. “You’ve been out late”, he said.  
Michael shrugged. “Yep.”  
“I can’t remember the last time I saw you before sundown.”  
Sighing Michael laid on his bed, arms crossed behind his head, eyes closed.  
“Yeah, well. You know that I like taking long walks now that I can’t play football anymore.”  
Trevor considered that. “Yeah… Yeah.”  
Michael thought they were done but then Trevor raised his voice again.  
“It just feels like you’ve been avoiding me, is all.”  
_Well…Shit._  
Michael glanced at Trevor, dramatically rolling his eyes.  
“Don’t be ridiculous, T”  
He heard how Trevor sharply sucked in air. Oh oh.  
“What do you expect me to think, dipshit? You’ve been so fucking distant the past few weeks! You’re gone all day and you barely hang out with us anymore.”  
“I just like the alone time, T. Calm down.”  
Now Trevor got up. “No, you calm the fuck down! What the ever-loving fuck is going on with you?”  
Michael sat up as well and looked Trevor in the eye, anger rising. That went from zero to one hundred fast. As it always did with them. “Nothing is going on with me!”  
“Then why the fuck do you act like this”, Trevor shouted, pointing at Michael.  
“Like what?!”  
“FUCK, I DON’T KNOW, LIKE THIS!”  
“Fucking hell, lower your voice, Trevor!”, Michael hissed.  
“Don’t you tell me what to do and fucking tell me what is going on!”  
“NOTHING.”  
The frustration was comically visible on Trevor’s face. “Do you think I’m stupid? Something is wrong. Ever since Niko and Roman left. Are you depressed or some shit like that? Tell me.”  
Michael was slowly losing his temper. “I’m not depressed, you deranged dickhead. Just leave me the fuck alone.”  
Trevor crossed the few feet that were separating them and got into Michael’s face, teeth gritted. “Don’t call me deranged. I wanna know why you’re being a little bitch!”  
“You wanna know why?”, Michael spat.  
“Duh. Yeah!”  
“Fine! I think you’re a fucking psychopath!”  
There was a short moment of complete silence. Trevor actually took a small step back. “What?”, he asked with that dangerous tone in his voice.  
“All of you guys are! Fuck.”  
There was bewilderment on Trevor’s face. “What the hell are you talking about?”  
Michael should have stopped here. Should have calmed down. But he was angry and frustrated and he couldn’t take it anymore.  
“After Niko killed Rascalov. None of you batted and eye. What the hell is wrong with you?!”  
They stared daggers at each other. Then Trevor burst out laughing. Michael was confused by this reaction. He expected anger, shouting, maybe stuff flying but not…this.  
“What’s so funny?!”  
“Ha, man you are one to talk! I didn’t see you shed any tears for that son of a bitch.”  
Taken aback Michael’s whole stature fell in on itself. Just a tiny bit, but Trevor noticed immediately. “Yeah…, well. I was in shock. You have no idea what I’ve been through!”  
“What you’ve been through? Oh god Michael, dramatic much? Are you telling me that after the whole ordeal you locked yourself in the bathroom, sat in the shower in the fetal position and cried your eyes out? Pretty please.”  
Michael crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked to the side. “What the fuck do you know…”  
A sly smile made its way on to Trevor’s face.  
“So that’s what’s going on? Man, I thought you were over this.”  
Michael raised an eyebrow. “Over what?”  
Smiling, Trevor shook his head. “That you are a piece of shit.”  
Oh, there was the anger creeping back again. Now Michael stood up as well. “What?!”, he hissed.  
Trevor wasn’t intimidated. His smile turned into a big grin. “I know you like to think that you are a good boy. Morally superior, upstanding, yada-yada. All that crap. But in there”, Trevor poked Michael’s chest, “In there you are just as bad as the rest of us.”  
Michael’s body reacted faster than his mind. He grabbed Trevor by the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer, glaring into the other’s eyes.  
“I’m nothing like you!”  
Trevor fake-frowned at that. “Oh but you are, sugar-tits. You know, a good person doesn’t need validation for their goodness all the fucking time. Get a clue.”  
They looked at each other, the silence growing uncomfortable.  
“I can change if I want to”, Michael then said, voice smaller.  
“Can you?”  
He let go of Trevor and sat back down.  
“Fuck T… What are we doing…?“  
Trevor straightened out his shirt. “You acting like a bitch and me putting up with it”, he replied nonchalantly.  
Ahh here came the headaches. Michael pinched the bridge of his nose.  
“Nooo. Not now! After college...”  
“I was thinking of starting a business of our own. Maybe get Packie and LJ on board.”  
“We can’t keep on doing this, T”  
“Why not? We made a shit ton of money in such a short amount of time! This is the dream!”  
“Because”, Michael looked up, “that would mean we would go deeper into the rabbit hole. What if we can’t get out?”  
Trevor let himself fall next to Michael.  
“I don’t wanna get out, Mikey. This is who I am. I can’t go out into the real world and get a job in an office or some shit like that. I’d kill myself in a matter of days.”  
What an eerie thing to say, Michael thought. And the way Trevor said it. It sent chills down Michaels spine.  
“I don’t think I can to this with you anymore, T.”  
Trevor scoffed. “What?”  
“I can’t handle this. I can’t handle you.”  
Michael had never seen Trevor this hurt.  
“So… Is this it?”  
Michael sighed heavily and buried his face in his hands. “Fuckin’ A, T. I don’t know, I can’t…”  
“C’mon porkchop, let’s just sleep. Maybe fuck a little”, Trevor said, reaching out to Michael but Michael swatted his hand away and got up. “I can’t, T!”  
Without any further discussion he put his shoes back on and walked out of the room, leaving Trevor alone.  
…  
……  
…  
Michael ended up at Amanda’s front door.  
He had given her a call on the way there, dragging her out of bed.  
Michael finished a cigarette before she opened the door. She was still wearing her pyjamas. They were a present he made her, Michael remembered. Her hair was tussled from sleep but you could tell she had at least tried to straighten it out a bit.  
“Keep your voice down, my parents are sleeping”, she whispered before letting him in.  
They snuck up to her room. Michael still knew the way, he had secretly been in her room many times before. After she closed the door behind them she turned around and looked at Michael. “What’s up? You sounded upset.”  
Michael sat down on the pink bed. Amanda’s Room looked like Barbie herself had designed it. “Fuck I guess I am. I don’t know what to do.”  
She sat down next to him, hand resting on his knee. “About what?”  
“About everything! My life is spiralling completely out of control and I can’t seem to catch a fucking break!”  
She studied him thoroughly and then gently squeezed his leg. “You said you got into some shady…stuff. Are you in danger?”  
Michael looked up and shook his head. “God…No. No. I don’t think so.”  
“You don’t _think_ so…?”, she asked, a horrified tone in her voice.  
“Not more than anyone else, I guess.”  
“You shouldn’t be in any danger at all! Why don’t you just stop whatever you are doing? You’re young. You still have a chance to do something honest…”  
Sighing, Michael laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “That’s just it. I’m not sure about that… God what is wrong with me.”  
She didn’t know what to say to that. Michael couldn’t bear the silence so he looked up at her. “Am I a good person, Amanda?” As he asked that Trevor’s words echoed in the back of Michael’s mind. _You know, a good person doesn’t need validation for their goodness all the fucking time._  
Amanda hesitated. “I’m not sure if I can answer that question, Michael… I’m not even sure if there is a good or a bad.”  
Michael frowned. Letting that sink in.  
“There’s someone. Someone I really like. And they don’t care. Don’t even ask themselves these questions. And let’s be honest here, I think they are the definition of a bad person.”  
Amanda inched closer. “Then why do you like them?”  
Michael had to laugh. “I don’t know but it scares the shit out of me.”  
He paused. Thinking.  
“I guess we are the same. In a way. But… They are okay with who they are. And I think I hate myself for it? I have these expectations for myself. Of who I want to be. And it eats me up inside.”  
Amanda made some space between them. “You are scaring me, Michael.”  
“I know. I’m sorry”, he said, very matter of factly.  
Silence.  
Then she sighed.  
“Can I be honest with you?”  
Michael nodded.  
“On one hand I think you really need a therapist. But on the other hand… If you live a certain way and it makes you sick… Maybe it’s better to give in. Maybe you really are not made for the honest life. But I don’t know. I’m just a teenager, Michael and I don’t think I have the right to tell you how you should live your life. I’d say do what makes you happy.”  
“Do what makes me happy, huh…?”  
…  
……  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahaha sorry you had to wait three days for this, my personal/professional life has been stressfull. I usually write this fic at night during the nightshift but I couldn't because I had to work a new employee in. We wont even start with the personal shit, but I hope I'll catch a break in a week or two. 
> 
> Next tuesday willl be no chapter.  
> I'm going to post the last chapter of this fic on halloween, so uhhh... thanks for sticking with me through this story and I hope I wont dissapoint with the ending, haha.  
> See ya then.


	20. The last chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big shout out to DD, I wish you a happy birthday!

The last chapter

“Weep my boys, weep!”  
Packie laid down his straight flush, a cocky smile on his lips. Then he started collecting the bills in the middle of their little circle with greedy hands. LJ grumbled something incomprehensible before folding his hand. Trevor was somewhere else with his mind.  
With someone else.   
Three days had passed and there was still no living sign of Michael.   
Trevor tried not to worry. After all, if he interpreted their last conversation right, Michael broke up with him. Fuck that piece of shit.   
But still…  
It was unsettling seeing the empty bed every morning. Untouched. His mind took him to awful places every time he looked at it. What if the Russian mafia got hold of him? What if he ran into the Lost…?   
It’s not like Michael had only not been in their room. No one had seen him on campus either. Which was weird. Sure, Michael wasn’t a good student, far from that. But missing three whole days not attending one class? This close to graduation?   
“Hey earth to Trevor!”  
Trevor snapped out of his daze and looked up.   
“Yo back wit us, man?”, Jacob asked.  
“Uhhh. Yeahh. Sorry.”  
“Still thinking bout Michael? He’ll be back, don’t worry”, Packie reassured while handing out a new round of cards.   
Trevor scoffed. “You sound so sure about that.”  
“Yeah well, where else is he supposed to go?”  
“hm.”  
Packie rolled his eyes. “Stop with that dreamy shit, man, that is not like you and you creep me the fuck out. Let’s just concentrate on our game here. I’m going to take every penny from you guys and I want you to witness it in agony!”  
…  
……  
…  
The coffee machine rumbled as fresh coffee poured into a porcelain cup. The smell made Michael think about his childhood and how his dad would drink at least three cups of coffee every morning before he headed out to work.   
It was strange sitting in his parents kitchen. It almost had been a year since the last time he was here. The feeling of ‘home’ had completely disappeared. He was glad it had.   
His mom set the cup down in front of him and went back to the machine to get herself one.   
“It’s so nice to see you again, Michael, you look good! Is football going well?”, she hummed while putting in the fresh capsule.   
Michael took a sip. “I can’t play football anymore, Mom. I got hurt.”  
She frowned at that. “Oh really? I’m sorry honey.”  
The discomfort of the topic seemed to completely go over her head. No. She knew. But she was good at pretending.   
“A shame. But I guess you can concentrate on your grades. How is that looking?”  
“Good”, Michael lied. It’s not like she truly cared.   
“You should have announced yourself, your father would’ve liked to see you too.”  
Michael hid his cynic smile behind the coffee cup. “Sure. Next time.”  
His Mom sat down next to him. She studied him, cup cradled in her hands. “There is something about you… Have you a new girlfriend? Or are you still with that Amanda girl?”  
“Oh no, we broke up a while ago. I’m with someone else now.”  
His mother smiled. “Well, you should bring her sometime!”  
Michael smiled back. “I will.”  
Awkward silence.   
“You and Dad. You were right… I mean, about cutting me off.”  
There was genuine surprise in his mothers eyes. “Really?”  
“Yeah. It wasn’t easy for me but I learned a lot. I got a good paying part-time job. I’m not working right now, but it’s only a matter of time before I can start again.”  
“That sounds amazing, honey! I’m glad you found your way without us interfering. You’ll be fine.”  
“Yeah… Can I be excused? I gotta use the restroom.”  
She nodded. “Of course! We have some leftover lemon pie in the fridge, do you want a piece?”  
The chair screeched as he stood up. “Sure, I’ll have some.”

As he was walking down the corridor, instead of going to the left to go to the nearest bathroom, he took a right turn, sneaking into his parent’s bedroom. Tiptoeing over the expensive carpet as he walked to the ridiculously huge picture frame of his Mom and Dad at their wedding day. He carefully dismounted it from the wall to reveal a medium sized safe door. Michael knew the combination by heart, not a problem. As he finished putting in the last number he was expecting the typical click of the door unlocking but… Nothing happened. Confused he put in the number again, making sure he got it right. Still nothing.   
_These fuckers changed the code!_  
Frustrated he was about to bang on the wall but stopped himself just before connecting to it. “Fucking A…”, he huffed out before relaxing and taking in a deep breath.   
_It’s okay. You can find another way in. No need to do it today._  
He put the frame back up and sneaked out the bedroom.  
…  
……  
…  
Dreams were a weird thing.   
One time you are ten feet tall, spit fire and trample over a tiny city and in the next moment you feel like you are being crushed by a rock. It felt almost real. But it had to be a dream because the rock felt warm. Rocks weren’t warm. Simple. They also didn’t breathe down your neck.   
Trevor stirred.  
That was no rock. He opened his eyes, blinking slowly until shapes could be made out in the darkness.   
“Morning.”  
Confused, Trevor looked at Michael’s face that was only inches from his. He groaned. “Sugar-tits? What the fuck are you doing? What time is it?”  
He couldn’t see much of Michael. The white of his eyes. His teeth as he spoke. His general outline.   
“I think it’s like… 4 am?”  
Silence. Trevor was still sleepy but it was fading.   
“You’re heavy”, he calmly stated.   
Michael snorted not moving and inch. Actually making himself heavier. Trevor wheezed. Stupid fucking asshole. Vanishing for days and then just showing up like this.   
“You were gone for a while.”  
“Yeah. I had to think. Self-reflect.”  
“Namaste you little bitch. I was fucking worried. I thought you left me.”  
Michael chuckled, his whole body softly vibrating with it.   
“Sorry. You have to put up the most with my self-consciousness.”  
“Fucking right, I do. You’re worse than any girl I’ve ever been with. Next thing I know, you’ll be asking me if your butt looks fat in those pants. By the way, the answer is yes. And it’s not the clothes. It’s your fat a-”  
Michael stopped the rant with a quick kiss. He pulled back and smiled. “Again. I’m sorry.”  
“I sure hope so”, Trevor mumbled, but not nearly as angry as before. He lifted his eyebrows. “So, come to any conclusions after your meditating trip?”  
Michael rested his chin on Trevor’s chest, humming softly. “Mhm. I think I’m going to quit college.”  
“Now?”  
“Now. A mediocre English degree won’t help me in future business opportunities of _our_ interests.”  
“True”, Trevor agreed. “And after you quit?”  
“After _we_ quit, we get ourselves a big batch of money. How does 100’000 tax-free dollars sound to you?”  
Trevor scoffed. “Sounds good. And how does mister plan on getting this amount of money?”  
“We take it from my parents.”  
A short pause.  
“You’re kidding me.”  
“Am not. My Dad is suspicious of banks. He always keeps some of it around the house. In a safe. I tried to get it yesterday. But they changed the code. So we have to get it another way.”  
Trevor had to hide the excitement in his voice. “We?”  
“I’m not doing this without you”, Michael said.   
“And after we relieve your parents of their money, what then?”  
“We leave the country and take it easy for a while. I was thinking Mexico. Canada, maybe?”  
“What about your place? Your stuff”, Trevor asked.  
“Sold it. Starter money for the robbery.”  
Another period of silence.  
“God, you make me so fucking horny right now”, Trevor sighed.   
Michael grinned and lifted his head. “Wanna do something about that?”  
…  
……  
…  
“Sooo let me get this straight…”, Packie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
“You want us to rob your parents while you visit them. Wearing this”, he held up the Mexican wrestling mask, “and after we get the money we abduct you so you and Trevor can fuck off to…Wait… Where exactly are you headed?”  
“Puerto Vallarta, it’s this small resort town in Mexico”, Trevor answered.   
“And if we do tis ting, we get 25% of the money”, Jacob asked, a critical look on his face.  
Michael nodded. “Exactly. Are you in? I mean Trevor _could_ do it on his own, but three guys are more menacing than one.”  
Packie And Little Jacob quietly glanced at each other.   
“Ah fuck it. Who am I to pass on easy money. I’m in.”  
“Me too, man. Now where are the guns at?”  
…  
……  
…  
The doorbell rang.  
This time it wasn’t his mother that opened, but his father. Michael put on his best smile and greeted the older man.   
“Hey dad.”  
“Michael.”  
Silence.  
“Can I come in?”, he asked.   
His father seemed hesitant. He studied his son with a strange look on his face. Then the click clack of his mothers heels approached. She glanced over her husbands shoulder. “Oh Michael! Back already?”  
“I miss you guys. And I missed Dad the last time… I was in the neighbourhood and I though I might as well come by and see if you guys are here.”  
His mother smiled. “That’s wonderful, honey. Well, what are you standing there, come in! I’ll make us some tea.”  
She waddled off into the kitchen and his father reluctantly stepped away from the entrance, welcoming Michael in. Internally, he had the smuggest grin on his face. So far so good.   
They sat down in the living room, his father opposite of him. He was still quietly studying Michael. Then he sighed and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Michael looked up.  
“Care to share?”, he asked.  
His father stopped mid movement. His eyebrows raising. “You smoke?”  
“Yeah. Habit I picked up at my job. Everybody does it.”  
Michael could see the gears in his father’s head turning. Then he shook out two cigarettes and handed one to Michael.   
“I guess it’s your god given right to do with your body what you want. Now that you make your own money.”   
Michael took the cigarette and lit it with his own lighter that he pulled out of his pants. The smoke went up in the air in puffs. “Yeah… But I’m trying to stop, though. My girlfriend doesn’t like it.”  
“Smart girl”, his father commented.   
Michael chuckled lightly.  
“Not really. She is kind of a hypocrite. Always takes drags from my cigarettes.”  
“Hm.”  
His mom walked in with a tray. She set it down carefully on the living room table and started pouring the tea. She handed Michael his tea.  
“Thanks Mom.”  
She smiled and nodded.   
As she was pouring the tea for his father, the sound of shattering glass made her startle, the tea spilling on the table. She dropped the can, eyes wide. His father got up. Michael acted like he was shocked too, but he was as calm as ever.  
“What was that?”, she whispered to her husband.   
“Maybe some neighbour kids. They probably are playing soccer again. Degenerate brats”, his father pressed out before stomping towards the sound. But he didn’t get far. The moment he was about to leave the room, the door swung open and a gun pointed at his face.  
“Take a seat, old man”, the intruder said with a rough tone. Packie. Clearly.   
Michael’s dad lifted his hands and slowly walked back to the couch and took a seat next to his wife, who clutched his arm instinctively.  
Jacob and Trevor came up behind Packie, each gun pointed at a family member. “This is a robbery ladies and gentleman. We advise you to stay calm and do as we say.”  
Michael’s dad nodded. “Of course. There are a few valuables in the house. Paintings, antiques-”  
“We’re not interested in that”, Trevor interrupted. “We want the save.”  
The look on his father’s face was priceless. Michael wished he could take a picture.   
“How do you-”  
“We’ve been watching this neighbourhood for a while. We know. All we need is the code”, Packie said.   
You could see how Michael’s dad was contemplating with himself. With a stoic sternness he looked at Packie.  
“No. I’m not going to give you the code.”  
Packie rolled his eyes and shot the wall, leaving a small but noticeable hole there. The sudden sound made even Michael flinch. Man, Packie was good at this. “You sure…?”, he asked, a warning tone in his voice.   
“Yes.”  
Michael gawked at his dad with wide eyes. He knew he was stubborn. But that stubborn? That’s were he got it from.  
“Naw hell, fuck it”, Trevor exclaimed loudly. He walked up to Michael, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and abruptly pulled him up. He quickly had his neck locked tight in a very convincing strangle hold, and pressed the cold metal of the gun against Michael’s head.   
Michael knew this was all for show but still… He had to admit he got scared a bit, his heart pounding faster inside his chest.   
“Still don’t wanna give us the code?”, he asked, his voice husky in excitement.   
Heavy silence filled the room.   
Michael looked beggingly at his parents. But inside he was fuming. Fucking pieces of shit. This wasn’t a decision to be pondering about!  
His mother nudged his dad. She whispered something in his ear. But he didn’t seem to listen. Michael gritted his teeth.  
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”  
Everyone was confused now and nobody knew what to do next. Michael let out a tsk and patted Trevor’s arm. “Let go of me T. We handle this another way.”  
Trevor was hesitant. But he obliged.   
Now his parents were just as confused as the rest of the people in the room.  
“This is just fucking terrific. You rather see me dead than give some robbers a couple of your bucks? It’s not like you haven’t enough. Fucking A. What if this was real, huh? My brains would’ve given this room a new paint job!”  
His dad stood up know, despite the guns still pointed at him. “What is the meaning of this!?”  
Michael just glared at him. “You know what? Fuck you.”  
With that said he punched his dad in the jaw and knocked him out cold. The tall man’s body collapsing in on itself.   
“What the fuck Michael! What are we going to do now?”, Packie shouted.  
Michael sighed. “Relax. It didn’t go as planned. But the code has to be in the house somewhere. We’ll search it, grab the money and get the fuck out of here.”   
“That won’t be necessary”, his mother said.   
All of them looked at her.   
“The code is five-five-three-two-zero-zero-nine-seven-four-seven-six. Go and take the money.”  
Michael turned to Packie and Jacob. “Go and see if it works.”  
“Will do”, Packie said before leaving.   
Michael let out a heavy sigh and sat back down. “What a fucking mess this is”, he mumbled. Trevor chuckled. “You were right, sugar-tits. Your dad is an asshole.”  
Michael scoffed. “Yeah.”  
A sudden sob interrupted their conversation. Both looked up at Michael’s mom. Her make-up was smudged from the tears.  
“I’m sorry honey. I’m so sorry.”  
Awkwardly, Michael scooted closer and rubbed her shoulder. “Uh… there, there. Sorry I knocked dad out, I guess.”  
She sniffled and wiped the tears off her face. “It’s fine. Take the money. Do what you want with it. I won’t tell the police.”  
Both Michael and Trevor were surprised by that. “What about dad?”  
She smiled at him with tired, teary eyes. “I’ll handle it. Just. Be carefull, yeah?”  
Michael nodded. “Yeah…”  
…  
……  
…  
The sun was slowly moving towards the horizon, painting the sky in orange, pink and yellow. The motorcycle hummed loudly as they drove on the small dirt road out of Los Santos. Trevor was leaning against Michael, his arms snug tightly around his waist. Deja-vu. Kind off. Michael chuckled.   
For the first time he felt free. Truly free. It was intoxicating. The radio was blaring, it sounded like it lost it’s connection. After it got the signal back a completely different radio channel was playing. It sounded foreign. 

_Ziemlich gut, wie wir das so gemeistert haben. Wie wir die grossen Tage unter kleinen Dingen begraben. Der Moment der die Wirklichkeit maskiert, es tut nur gut zu wissen, dass das wirklich funktioniert.  
Lass uns die Woke vier, bitte nie mehr verlassen, weil wir auf Wolke sieben viel zu Viel verpassen. Ich war da schon einmal… Bin zu tief gefallen. Lieber Wolke vier mit dir als unten wieder ganz allein._

Trevor’s harsh laughter was ringing in his ears. “What the hell is this?”  
Michael shrugged. “Dunno. Must’ve gotten a signal from a German radio station close by or some shit like that.”  
The rest of the drive was quiet, the song kept on playing.   
After a while Michael went off road to a cliff. Shortly before the drop-off he stopped. The motor died down and both of them got off.   
Michael pulled off the helmet and squinted at the sunset. “Well. This is it.”  
Trevor took his helmet and tossed it over the cliff. “Sure is. Any last words to your bike?”  
Michael sighed and looked at it. “No. I loved it and all… But. Life goes on I guess.”  
Trevor smiled. “Do you wanna do the honours?”  
Michael nodded. He threw the helmet down the cliff as well. Then he grabbed the bike and rolled it over the ledge. The loud crash as it impacted on hard stone was oddly satisfying.   
“How far you said is the bus station?”, Trevor asked as they looked at the remains of the motorcycle.  
“About three miles form here. But we should get going if we want to get the one to Mexico in time… But first…”  
Michael pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Relishing, he breathed in the smoke and let it go again. Trevor shook his head. “Still don’t get that.”  
Michael threw the half full pack of cigarettes over the cliff. “It’s my last one. Let me have this.”  
He heard Trevor chuckle before he took Michael’s free hand and held it. Nothing more. He just held it. Michael smiled and offered Trevor the cigarette. He didn’t even bother to take it into his hands, he just leaned in and sucked in a few puffs before leaning back again. He coughed. “God I’m glad you’re quitting.”  
Michael grinned and flicked the rest of the cigarette to the ground. “Me too. Now c’mon. Let’s go.”  
“One last thing…”, Trevor purred before pulling Michael in for a kiss. They both were smiling as they parted. Michael patted Trevor on his chest. “Seriously now. We gotta go.”  
“Gee, alright, sugar-tits.”  
…  
……  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo this was it. I guess. Thanks to everyone who has been reading, commenting, leaving kudos, etc.   
> I'm really happy that I finished this, and I'm asuming my writing got better doing it. 
> 
> I'm taking a break from big stories, because for now I want to concentrate on a script I'm writing. But I do take writing requests and I'll be uploading a one-shot every now and then. Feel free to contact me, I'm too tired to bite.
> 
> If you liked this and you like my writing you might want to check out my art blog on tumblr too, I take comissions and I do take requests every now and then!  
> I also work full-time and it's not easy finding time to write, draw and do sports. You can support me by buying me a coffee on Ko-fi!  
> Here are the links:
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> https://ko-fi.com/littleeliot


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